^!i^S^< 


^^  \t  ^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


I^MM    |25 

US  ^    ^" 

1^  liii  12.2 


IIS 

HI 
u 


14.0 


M 

1^  lis  Ih 


' 

<^" 

0 

^ 

Flioliographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


33  WIST  MAIN  STRICT 

WIBSTCR,N.Y.  14580 

(716)  S72-4S03 


v 


k^' 


•17 


iV 


^ 


>^'^^ 

^.v* 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/iCIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  da  microraproductions  historiquas 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notaa/Notos  taehniquaa  at  bibliographiquaa 


Tha 
toti 


Tha  Inatituta  haa  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  baat 
>^riyinal  copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturaa  of  thia 
copy  which  may  ba  bibliographieaily  uniqua. 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagaa  in  tha 
raproduction,  or  which  may  aignificantly  changa 
tha  uaual  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chaclcad  balow. 


□   Colourad  covara/ 
Couvoitura  da  coulaur 


rn   Covara  damagad/ 


D 


D 
D 


D 


Couvartura  andommagia 


Covara  raatorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  raataurte  at/ou  palliculAa 


I — I   Covar  titia  miaaing/ 


La  titra  da  couvartura  manqua 

Colourad  mapa/ 

Cartaa  gtegraphiquaa  an  coulaur 

Colourad  inic  li.a.  othar  than  blua  or  blacic)/ 
Encra  da  coulaur  (i.a.  autra  qua  blaua  ou  noira) 


nn   Colourad  plataa  and/or  iliuatrationa/ 


D 


Pianchaa  at/ou  iliuatrationa  1%  coulaur 


Bound  with  othar  matarial/ 
RaiiA  avac  d'autras  documanta 


Tight  binding  may  cauaa  ahadowa  or  diatortion 
along  intarior  margin/ 

Laroliura  tarrte  paut  cauaar  da  i'ombra  ou  da  la 
diatoralon  la  long  da  la  marga  intiriaura 

Blank  laavaa  addad  during  raatoration  may 
appaar  within  tha  taxt.  Wharavar  poaaibia.  thaaa 
hava  baan  omittad  from  filming/ 
II  aa  paut  qua  cartainaa  pagaa  bianchaa  ajoutiaa 
lora  d'una  raatauration  apparaiaaant  dana  ia  taxta, 
mala,  ioraqua  cala  itait  poaaibia,  caa  pagaa  n'ont 
paa  4t«  fiimiaa. 

Additional  commanta:/ 
Commantairaa  supplAmantairaa: 


L'Inatitut  a  microfilm*  la  maliiaur  axamplaira 
qu'il  lui  a  it*  poaaibia  da  aa  procurer.  Laa  ditaiia 
da  cat  axamplaira  qui  aont  paut-Atra  uniquaa  du 
point  da  vua  bibliographiqua,  qui  pauvant  modiHar 
una  imaga  raprodulta.  ou  qui  pauvant  axigar  una 
modification  dana  la  mithoda  normala  da  fiimaga 
aont  indiquia  ci*daaaoua. 


D 

D 
D 


D 
0 
D 
D 
D 
D 


Colourad  pagaa/ 
Pagaa  da  coulaur 

Pagaa  damagad/ 
Pagaa  andommagiaa 

Pagaa  raatorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Pagaa  raatauriaa  at/ou  paiiicuiiaa 

Pagaa  diacolourad.  stiinad  or  foxad/ 
Pagaa  dicoloriaa,  tachatiaa  ou  piquias 

Pagaa  dataehad/ 
Pagaa  ditachiaa 

Showthrough/ 
Tranaparanca 

Quality  of  print  variaa/ 
Quaiit*  inigala  da  I'impraaaion 

Includaa  aupplamantary  matarial/ 
Comprand  du  matirial  auppiimantaira 

Only  adition  availabia/ 
Sauia  Mition  diaponibia 

Pagaa  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slipa.  tissues,  etc.,  hava  been  refilmed  to 
enaura  the  best  possible  image/ 
Lea  pagea  totalement  ou  pertiellement 
obacurciaa  par  un  fauillet  d'errata.  una  pelure. 
etc..  ont  it*  filmies  *  nouveau  da  fa^on  A 
obtanir  la  maiiieure  image  poaaibia. 


Tha 
poai 
ofti 
film 


Orifl 

bagi 

the 

alon 

otN 

firat 

aion 

oril 


The 
ahal 
TINI 
whi( 

Mar 
diffi 
antii 
bagI 
righ 
raqi 
met 


Thia  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  da  rMuction  indiqu*  ci-daaaoua. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


26X 


30X 


12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


2IX 


32X 


Th*  eopy  fUmcd  tmn  hat  bMii  raproducMI  thanks 
to  th*  OMMraaity  of: 

Bibliothiqua  national*  du  Quiboe 


L'axamplairo  fUmA  fut  raproduh  grica  i  la 
04n4roslt«  da: 

BibliothAqua  natlonala  du  QuAbac 


Tha  imagaa  appaaring  haia  ara  tha  bast  quality 
posslbia  oonaMaring  tha  condition  and  laglblHty 
of  tha  original  eopy  and  In  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  spacif Icatlona. 


Original  coplaa  In  printad  papar  covers  ara  fllmad 
beginning  with  tha  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  laet  page  with  a  printad  or  lliuatrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  ara  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impree- 
sion«  and  ending  on  tlie  last  page  vs;lth  a  printad 
or  iiluatratad  Impression. 


I.SS  Imagaa  suhrantea  ont  4t4  reproduites  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin,  compta  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
da  le  nettetA  de  I'exemplaire  film*,  et  en 
conformM  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

I.ee  exemphilres  originaux  dont  la  couverture  an 
papier  est  ImprimAe  sont  filmto  en  commandant 
par  la  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  salt  par  la 
demlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'iiiustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  ki  cas.  Tous  iss  autras  exemplalres 
originaux  sont  fllmte  en  commen^ant  par  la 
pramlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empr^^nte 
d'impression  ou  d'iiiustration  at  mn  terminant  par 
la  damMre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  iaat  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shaN  contain  tha  symbol  — ^>  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  ▼  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  appiles. 


Un  dus  symboiss  suh/ants  apparattra  sur  la 
darnlAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
ces:  Is  symbols  — ►  signifie  "A  8UIVRE",  le 
symbols  ▼  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  pistes,  charts,  etc..  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  Included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


l.es  cartas,  planclias.  tableaux,  etc..  peuvent  itre 
filmte  A  des  taux  da  rMuctlon  diffArants. 
Lorsqua  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reprodult  en  un  seui  cilchA.  II  est  filmA  A  partir 
de  Tangle  supArleur  gauche,  de  gauclia  A  droite. 
et  de  liaut  en  lias,  an  pranant  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
lilustrsnt  la  mAthode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

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JESUIT  MISSIONARY; 


A  TALE  OF  THn 


OS 


St: 
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NORTH  AMERICAN  INDIANS. 


» «  •    •  •  .  ,    • 

•    •  •  »    ♦  * 


*,  '  *  •  i 


«     « 


•  • « •  « * 


«  «  t       4  •        • 


By  JAME^'McSllEKriY;  FTsii^'  ••^•^  *  i(^J 


••  % 


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i  •  •  I        « 

«  «  «  t  — f — V 

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»   *        o 


J.  BALTrMORE: 

gl'KINTED  AND  ITBLfSr^JIEl)  \\\  J    >ILK1»HY,  §^ 

I  7  8    M  A  B  K  F,  T    S  T  R  E  E  T  . 
DUBLIN  :    R.  GRACE  iV  S  jNS. 

Pittsburg:    geo.  quigley. 

e«»LD    BY    BOOKSELLKRS    <»l  M  i(  M.r,Y. 

1847* 


K 


■p^^worv  ■^M»»%»»i  »'!»■»  ittam'*0iflitryt0m  #  w  « 


»     ■ 


•1'%} 


'0  A  ElffD  AND  AFFECTIONATI  FATHEB 


BT  A  aBATBFUL  SON 


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«jjtk 


,«-^ 


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PREFACE. 


r 


The  inientioii  of  tho  writer  of  the  following  tale  baa 

[been  to  portray,  at  least  indifltinctly,  one  of  tboae  mag- 

[nificent  scenes  in  which  the  Jesuits  of  the  Canada 

lissions  were  actors,  in  the  early  settlement  of  that 

country.     The  sufferings  of  the  missionary,  bis  in- 

lomitable  courage  in  the  apostolate,  and  the  effect  of 

/hrlstianity  upon  the  Indian  convert,  are  the  principal 

>int8  of  the  picture  which  he  has  desired  to  present, 
though  he  has  not  dared  to  enter  into  all  the  terrible 
letails  of  the  Mohawk  torture,  as  it  was  too  often 
mdured  by  tbose  patient  and  heroic  martyrs.  The  foun- 

ition  of  the  ftetion  is  laid  upon  the  histoiy  of  Father 
Tsaac  Jogues ;  though  the  rescue  in  the  story  is  enthrely 
ictitious.    Yet  its  general  bearing  is  not  at  variance 

ith  the  ruuUi  of  his  adventures* 

f  reiVBrick,  Md.  Sept  6,  1846. 


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'•*■.  .■•«? 


'ft-  -• 


^, ^;. -^i'K '^''  ■'■•;.; ',■■  ;i^'' '  - ■  -  ■■'-''"■■■  -«■  V'- ''"  ■  ■-. ■■ -';/1^ '^•■- -'^ 

■   •  >  ■■-.  -:  ^'  .    ■  '  ..■;.  ■-'  .   "■  ■■    "  '■■■■  ■-  ,-  -'-■•■-"  '"-^'-     : 

,  ^^  CONTENTS. 

fu AFTER  l.«-~The  Missionary, .... .'. »page    9 

II.-^The  Departure, . , 17 

IJ[.---The  Instruotion, S5 

IV.— Night  upon  the  Waters,  ...,.,,,..••.  39 

V ^The Conflict,. ,,..,,.,..., .,,  65 

V 1 1*^*! no  iriom, f4««*t**«<««  ••••  •••••••••  04 

Vll.— The  Return, •,...•.,,.,.... «...10B 

VIII.— Baptism  in  Bondage, , 135 

IX. — The  Council, ,,,,,.,,.,.,156 

X.— The  Torture, 193 

Xr.— The  Wreath  of  Wild  Flowers,,...... saa 

XU.— The  Conclusion, fi|«»'»'^ 

^j*    "'  ■ 


:'-\''-:.'\i'--\ 


'  'Ul'-"'  •■■■•■■  ■'w-"*-  ■ 


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>./:-r 

,:-fr-  ■    •-• 

Errata.— PJige  90,  line  4tli,  for  lasty  read  second, 
«   111,   »*  15lh,  «  ats(,   «    ea«<. 


> 


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■^    ■         ; 

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«^^?v^'^'^'^?^  ^ 

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■"■■    ^^          ,      ^^>■ 

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.  ^  T  "t  ^r  J. 


■'I 


.i^  i' 


!Z%e  Missionary. 

N  the  year  of  our  Lord  1642  the  va- 
rious missionary  stations  of  the  Jes^ 
its  throughout  Canada^  or  New  France^ 
it  was  then  called^  were  threatened  wit^ 
1  the  wild  fury  of  the  savage  and  un- 
mable  Iroquois.    The  Five  Nations  hac^ 
roved  themselves  the  most  unconquer- 
le  in  their  hostility  to  the  white  man^ 
the  religion  which  he  taught^  and  the 
vilization  which  he  endeavored  to  intrq^ 
Lce.    In  vain  had  overtures  of  peace 
en  made.    For  a  time^  perhaps^  as  i^ 
umbering  from    indolence  or  exhaus- 
n^  they  ceased  to  ravage^  but  it  was  only. 
2  ^ 


10 


PERE   JEAN, 


•1^ 


7^: 


to  break  forth  again  with  more  furious 
energy.  Their  bands  of  braves  "  ranged 
the  illimitable  forests  "  with  no  power  to 
control  them,  and  no  rivals  whom  they 
dreaded.  They  traversed  the  St.  LaW- 
rence  and  lakes  Erie  and  Ontario,  add 
they  struck  their  enemy  upon  the  shores 
of  lake  Champlain.  fLJL^ 

Every  missionary  on  his  way  to  his  dis- 
tant station  was  in  constant  danger^  of 
.  captivity  and  death ;  and  yet  never  were 
those  stations  left  unfilled .  for  want  of 
brare  and  devoted  men  to  ^dare  all  the 
terrors  of  the  route,  and  the  chances  of 
.enduring  the  torture  at  the  villages  of  the 
Mohawks.  The  path  to  the  Huron  mis- 
sions was  perhaps  more  completely  beset 
uian  any  other,  for  the  Iroquois  had  suc- 
ceeded in  cutting  off,  or  at  least  in  inter- 
rupting  the  communication  between  Up- 
per and  Lower  Canada.  They  had  pos- 
session of  the  intermediate  passes. 

la  duebec^  in  that  year,  the  feast  of  St. 


OR   THE    MISSIONARY. 


11 


urious 
ranged 
wer  ip 
n  they 

LaW- 
10,  arid 

shores 


ist  of  St. 


gnatius,  the  foundeV  of  the  Society  of 
esus,  was  celebrated  with  no  ordinary 
plendo^^^  The  fathers  on  that  joyous  oc- 
ifasion  offered  up  with  full  hearts  the  glori- 
|>us  crown  of  souls,  gathered  from  the 
|eilderness — gathered  up  to  the  "  greater 
^onor  of  God  '^  by  the  sons  of  St.  Igna- 
|(us,  from  the  wandering  children  of  the 
^rest.  It  was  no  feeling  of  earthly  glory 
of  human  pride  that  swelled  within 
eir  hearts  as  they  raised  them  up  to- 
ards  heaven,  throbbing  high  with  exult- 
on.  It  was  not  the  triumph  which 
htens  un  the  eye  of  the  worldly  con- 
eror  and  curls  his  lip,  that  made  their 
p  more  stately,  and  their  pale  features 
w  with  an  unwonted  flush.  They  were 
iritual  soldiers;  and  they  felt,  in  their 
arts,  the  glory  of  their  calling  and  the 
rtial  joy  of  victory  over  the  infernal 
emy  against  whom  they  battled.  Many 
ull,  deep  voice  trembled  as  it  chanted 
solemn  service;  age  prayed  with  its 


■*" 


rfei, . 


:•■,  ijik  :£Lii**«i.. 


12 


PERE   JEAN^ 


chastened  calmness;  youth  vowed  to 
make  itself  more  worthy  of  the  glorious 
founder  under  whose  banners  ihey  were 
enlisted  in  the  service  of  God.  Deep  was 
the  feeling  that  pervaded  all  hearts  on  that 
memorable  festival.  ^  ^^^'' '  ^^ 

Among  the  priests  who  knelt  at  the  al- 
tar^ was  one  remarkable  for  his  worn  and 
sunburnt  aspect.  A  little  beyond  the  full 
prime  and  strength  of  manhood^  with  the 
nobility  of  nature  stamped  upon  his  bro 
he  was  a  man  calculated  to  strike  the  at- 
tention of  all  who  looked  upon  him.  And 
yet  there  was  nothing  hard  or  stem  in  those 
grave,  calm  features;  they  were  the  true 
picture  of  a  good  and  gentle  heart ;  a  mind 
tutored  in  the  patient  and  enduring  school 
of  Xavier  and  Loyola ;  a  will  subdued 
and  mortified.  Father  Jean  Laval  was 
preparing  himself  for  a  renewal  of  his  ar- 
duous mission  in  the  western  wilderness. 
A  few  weeks  of  rest  and  relaxation  had 
elapsed  since  he  had  completed  the  peril- 


OR   THfi   MISSIONARY. 


13 


ous  voyage  from  the  missions  at  the  falls 
of  St.  Mary,  between  lakes  Huron  and 
Superior,  and  now  he  was  assisting  for 
the  last  time  for  many  months,  it  might 
be  for  ever,  with  his  brethren  of  duebec, 
at  the  holy  mystery  of  the  altar.  And  yet 
the  perilous  voyage  before  him  did  not  ap- 
pear Xq  weigh  upon  his  mind.  Abstracted 
from  all  earthly  things,  his  soul  seemed 
only  the  more  closely  wrapt  in  the  contem- 
plation of  things  heavenly.  Not  so  with 
Fmany  a  full  heart  in  thatthronged  temple  of 
God :  but  the  fulness  of  their  hearts  only 
made  them  mingle  more  fervently  with 
their  prayers  the  name  of  him  on  whom 
their  eyes  now  rested  with  such  deep  love 
and  admiration.  He  was  going  once  more 
to  that  nation  of  pious  Indiansof  whom  they 
had  heard  such  joyful  tidings — who  clus- 
tered to  the  true  altar  of  Grod  in  thousands ; 
a  Christian  people  in  the  wilderness.  He 
was  going  to  enlarge  the  empire  of  the  gos* 
pel,  to  plant  the  cross  in  new  regions,  to  face 


14 


P£EE   JEAN, 


new  dangers^  it  might  be  to  win  a  mar- 
tyr's crown.  It  was  a  noble  spectacle  to 
them,  a  spectacle  of  Christian,  chivalric 
devotion.  *'* 

At  length  the  last  chant  of  the  solemn 
mass  had  ceased  to  swell  in  the  crowded 
aisle ;  the  benediction  had  been  given,  and, 
silently  and  with  holy  recollection,  the 
worshippers  departed  to  their  homes.  A 
small  group  of  Indians  alone  remained 
before  the  church.  In  a  few  moment 
Father  Laval,  in  his  cassock,  accompa-" 
nted  by  another  priest  of  his  order,  issued 
from  the  sacristy,  where  he  had  disrobed, 
and  advanced  towards  them. 

"My  dear  children,"  he  said,  "  all  my 
arrangements  are  completed :  we  will  de- 
part to-morrow.  Our  superior  so  wills 
it." 

"  It  is  good,"  replied  one  of  their  num- 
ber, who  appeared  to  be  the  chief  of  the 
party.  "  Ahasistari  hears  his  father,  the 
blackgown." 


■hf^ 


OB  THS  MISSIOKART. 


rs 


ti 


At  day-break,  then,  sachem- 


99 


i( 


The  Hurons  will  be  ready.''  And 
fhe  party  separated.  Father  Laval  and  his 
companion  pursuing  their  walk  lo  th« 
touse  of  their  order. 

''Ah,  my  Triend,  what  a  glorious  lot  is 
rours!  You  go  to  carry  the  cross  of 
Ihrist  to  the  heathen !  Oh !  shall  we  not 
mvy  you  the  inestimable  happiness  of  be- 
ing thought  worthy  of  such  high  honor  1'f 
^rvently  exclaimed  the  companion  of 
'ather  Laval.  '  -  • 

p  *'  No,  my  brother;  rather  pray  for  me 
that  my  unworthine§i  may  not  tender 
frukless  the  prayers  df  the  good  and  inous 
in  behalf  of  the  benighted  Indi^^m.  And 
7et  it  is  a  glorious  field  of  labor;  soriek, 
\o  sweet,  so  full  of  iMnsoIation ;  all  its 
toils  and  dangers  jvdlJ^piid  by  the  happy 
privilege  of  winning  sovli^to  God." 
"  And  happy  are  the  auspiqes^  Father 
[Laval  t  On  this  festival!  of  our  gieal 
[saint,  you  prepare  to  add  new  glory  to  hii 


16 


.V.    PBRE   JEAN. 


SiO 


jiji-!Ja  H 


name  on  earth,  by  bringing  new  children 
to  the  fold  of  Christ.^'-  ^..,.  .^^.   ...^^ 

''  And  to-morrow.  Father  Anthony,  to- 
morrow is  the  feast  of  Uhe  chaim  of  St. 

'*  Happy  coincidence,  my  Brother,"  ex- 
claimed Father  Anthony.  "  You  go  on 
that  day  forth  to  bind  the  savage  in  the 
chains  of  Peter,  to  win  wandering  chil- 
dren to  the  footstool  of  his  master.'' 

**  Or  to  wear  my  chains  like  him ;  bu 
alas!  I  am  not  deserving  of  such  favor.  I 
shall  not  be  deemed  worthy  of  suffering 
for  him  who  died  for  me.  Oh,  happiness ! 
oh^  bliss!  I  dare  not  hope  for  thee!  "41*41 

^*  Happy  apostle !  happy  in  the  chains 
and  suffering  you  may  be  worthy  of  en- 
during. We,  thy^thren^  seek  a  remem- 
brance in  tbf  ptItKmf'  %.  I  ^ 

^'Father  Aidbny  Datiiel,"  said  the^ 
oiissienary,  slowly  and  thoughtfully,  as 
Aey  reached  the  end  of  their  walk,  '^it 
iMl  be  thine  next." 


r%^m.  ■^■M$r^ 


■i* 


mm^^-mmxM-  i^^mi^^-i^ 


«v 


rt  ,  ^t!i^:tiltt^   ■  /t. 


.•I  >t. ^..V  ftlftCi 


The  Departure. 

N  the  following  morn,  the  first  day  of 
August,  a  gallant  fleet  of  war  ca- 
oes  floated  gaily  from  beneath  the  guns  of 
brt  €luebec.  The  plumed  and  painted  In- 
dians, bowing  their  strength  to  the  paddles, 
ent  their  light  and  graceful  barks  rapidly 
nto  the  mid-waters  of  the  broad  St  Law- 
rence. The  sun  was  just  rising,  and 
breaking  dim  and  red  Q|rough  the  heavy 
mists  that  overhung  the  riter :  yet  ere  the 
last  canoe  swept  into  the  line,  the  veil  of 
vapor  began  to  disappear  before  its  power- 
ful rays.    Breaking  into  light  clouds,  it 


18 


PERE  JEAN, 


rose  and  floated  slowly  away  towards  the 
south,  while  streams  of  sunshine  poured 
brightly  through  each  opening,  lighting 
up  the  earth  with  a  rich  glow,  and  cloth- 
ing the  placid  bosom  bf  the  river  vriin  a 
robe  of  gold.  As  the  mist  dispersed,  ^i^e 
scene  around  became  distinct  ki  its  full 
beauty,  and  the  infant  city  seemed  to 
waken  up  to  life  and  actirity.  A  crowd  of 
citizens  stood  upon  the  quay,  gazing  eager- 
ly and  fondly  on  the  receding  fleet,  as  if  i^ 
contained  some  dear  object  upon  which,' 
perhaps,  they  might  be  looking  for  the 
last  time.  ■-^^m'^ 

In  the  rearmost  and  largest  canoe  were 
the  only  two  white  men  of  the  party — 
Father  Jean  Laval  and  his  young  assistant, 
the  novice,  Rene  Bour^ise.  Ouiding 
tfaa  canoe  in  whiek  luey  sat,  Ahasistari, 
the  chief,  seemed  to  guard  their  comfort 
and  convenience  as  the  first  object  of  his 
caie.  The  vigorous  arms  of  the  Indian 
rowers  impelled  the  canoes  westward  up 


OR  THE   MISSIONARY. 


19 


ds  the 
oured 
hting 
clo'h- 
^iih  a 
dy  ;iAe 
8  full 
ed  to 
wdof 
>ager- 
s  if  ij 
hicb]* 
r  the 

were 

itant^ 

iding 

uar i, . 

afort 

fhia 

dian 

1  up 


the  St.  Lawrence,  and  when  the  fotemosi 
was  about  disappearing  to  the  view  of  the 
party  on  the  quay.  Father  Laval  arose  in 
[the  trembling  bark,  and  extending  k^ 
lands  towards  heaven,  invoked  again  that 
riessing  upon  their  pilgrimage,  which  he 
lad,  already,  in  company  with  his  breth» 
(n  and  the  whole  people,  so  earnestly  be- 
lought.  Then,  with  an  affectionate  wave 
if  his  hand,  he  bade  adieu  to  his  distant 
riends,  and,  resuming  his  seat,  bowed  his 
lead  in  silent  prayer.  At  the  same  in- 
itant  a  wreath  of  smoke^,  accompanied 
^ith  a  bright  flash,  burst  Irom  the  walls 
upon  the  heights  of  Abraham,  and  the 
;^  heavy  sullen  roar  of  cannon  swept  in  a 
moment  more  across  the  waters,  while 
the  cloud  of  smoke  rose  slowly  and  spirally 
itowards  the  heavens.  Father  Laval  raised 
his  head  and  gazed  for  a  single  instant 
upon  the  standard  of  France,  as  it  waved 
over  the  impregnable  fortress,  and  then 
resumed  his  prayer  and  meditation.    No 


20 


PERE   JEAN, 


sound  now  broke  upon  the  ear  butthe  slight 
splash  of  the  paddle,  as  it  dipped  lightly 
but  vigorously  in  the  stream,  and  the  mbr- 
Buring  of  the  rippling  current  around  the 
sharp  bow  of  the  canoe  in  its  rapid  course. 
The  young  novice  looked  upon  the 
bright,  glad  scene  around  him  with  a  sub- 
dued pleasure,  now  curiously  watching 
the  lithe  and  active  forms  of  the  graceful 
Indians  as  they  bent  their  strength  to  their 
paddles,  and  now  casting  his  eye  towardi^^ 
the  glorious  scenery  that  bordered  on  the^ 
St.  Lawrence.  Perhaps  scarce  twenty 
summers  had  he  numbered,  and  yet  he 
seemed  already  to  have  drank  in  the  severe 
yet  serene  lessons  of  the  Jesuit  school  of 
endurance.  Parting  from  the  midst  of 
civilized  men,  going  unarmed  and  de- 
fenceless^through  paths  waylaid  by  a  re- 
morseless enemy»,  he  exhibited  no  fear,  no 
regrets ;  in  the  midst  of  novelty  aad  the 
unequalled  beauty  of  the  view  around,  he 
permitted  no  extravagant  sign  ot. delight 


<* 


OR   TH£   MISSIONARY. 


21 


to  escape  his  lips.  He  subdued  the  trans- 
port of  his  feelings  into  the  calmness  of 
tranquil  enjoyment,  and  by  his  silence  and 
serenity  won  the  admiring  regard  of  the 
stern  warriors  of  the  Hurons.       -     ^ 

At  length  Father  Laval  addressed  him : 
**  Rene,  my  son,  we  have  entered  happily 
upon  our  arduous  journey.  How  beauti* 
ful  is  this  earth  around  us,  which  God  has 
given  to  man  for  the  scene  of  his  pilgrim- 
age.  He  is  a  good  God,  my  children,  in- 
finitely loving :  if  he  has  thus  cared  for  our 
happiness  here,  in  this  sojourn  on  earth, 
what  has  he  not  prepared  for  the  faithful 
and  persevering  servant  in  heaven?  Let 
us  meditate  upon  his  infinite  goodness, 
and  mercy,  and  love.  It  is  fitting  thus  to 
begin  and  consecrate  our  labors.'^  ^      ^ 

The  Indians  assented  with  fhe  usual 
short  and  subdued  exclamation :  and  for 
a  space  no  sound  was  heard  save  the  regu- 
lar strokes  of  the  paddles,  while  the  canoe 
proceeded  with  unslackened  speed.    After 


22 


PERE   JEAN^ 


some  time  spent  in  meditation^  the  good 
priest  employed  himself  in  reciting  his  of- 
fice^ and  Rene  Bourdoise  gazed  calmly 
down  towards  the  receding  towers  of 
duebec  until  he  caught  the  last  glimpse 
of  the  lofty  flag-staff  bearing  the  banner  of 
St.  Dennis.  As  the  scenery  became  wilder 
and  more  desolate^  his  mind  began  to  re- 
cur to  the  bright  scenes  of  his  native  land^ 
and  to  visit  once  more  the  beautiful  and 
populous  valleys  of  France.  The  recol- 
lection of  home  and  early  friends^  of  pa- 
rents and  distant  kindred^  came  rushing 
upon  the  youths  casting  a  dark  and  gloomy 
hue  upon  the  prospects  before  him.  Deso- 
lation and  danger  seemed  to  deepen  round 
him ;  yet^  suppressing  these  thoughts  with 
a  single  aspiration^  he  placed  himself  un- 
der the  invocation  of  the  Virgin^  and  de- 
voted himself  without  reserve  to  the  will 
of  God.  ■• .?'  '  '^  4'i^^^^  ^- 

It  was  in  this  spirit,  and  with  such  dis- 
posiiione^  that  the  whites  of  the  party  en- 


'i\:*W 


OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 


23 


J  good 
his  of. 
^almly 
ers  of 
impse 
nerof 

wilder 
to  re- 
land^ 

\l  and 

recol- .% 

>fpa. 

sbing 

ooiny 

Oeso- 

ound 

with 

f  un- 

I  de- 

will 

dis- 
en- 


iered  on  their  voyage.    The  Hurons  were 

eemiDgly  indiflferent  to  every  thing  but 

he  comfort  of  those  whom  they  were 

uiding   and    escorting  to  the    hunting 

rounds  of  their  tribe;  and  were  only 

armed  into  life  and  animation  by  the 

rvor  of  their  hearts  when  absorbed  in 

eligious  exercises.    They   displayed  in 

liothing  that  there  was  danger  of  assault^ 

hilst  they  were  prepared  for  any  event. 

Father  Laval^  after  some  time,  closed  his 

ook^  and  turning  towards  the  leader  of 

he  party,  addressed  him  : 

"  My  son,  what  think  you  is  the  pros- 

ect  of  our  safely  passing,  by  the  waters,  to 

i^the  Huron  missions  ?  Were  it  not  better  to 

land  and  cross  the  forest  towards  the  Ot- 

awa?'' 

After  a  moment^s  pause,  Ahasistari  re- 
plied :  ^*  Father,  the  way  is  long  and  toil- 
some for  the  white  man,  and  his  trail  is 
broad.  The  Mohawk  crosses  the  river, 
and  his  eye  is  keen.   The  running  waters 


"' ,*- 


24 


PERE   JEAN. 


keep  no  trails  and  the  Huron  canoes  are 
swift  and  easy.  My  father^  I  swear  to 
thee  that  Ahasistari  will  share  thy  fortunes 
whether  of  death  or  life ! "    ^  ^    t  ?  *  \ 

''To  your  skill  and  judgment  I  confide 
the  choice  of  the  route — the  issue  is  in  the 
hands  of  the  Almighty."  ^  >: 


^ll.JjV''»  yi     '*?  '»'li 


4'f^ 


!»  •  ■••  t>  '• 


i|>n  urn  >  f 


5«-    i 


'.mM-y:¥:il.^  ii,:    ,,;<., -v^':*     5* 


'^^y  ,^,if  i,^ff 


r  ^%i'-- 


.*' 


>  -'. 


V'  c  ■ 


■v- 


*;l*l;  Ml*  :  :.r.  ^d^%:  ;y?b_^ti:4j^v. 


..  ^  /■  <:-■ 


).'■       '■  >,*  •>     X' 


t.     i'  t  i  ?  - 


CHAPTER  IH. 


i  1" 


TV  /mfruc^ion. 


4...  '  fU-^'^ 


|F  the  Indians^  who  composed  the 
escort  of  the  missionaries^  some 
fere  not  yet  baptized.    All,  however,  had 
^ard,  with  devout  attention,  the  preach- 
ig  of  the  Jesuit.    They  had  listened  to 
lim  as  the  messenger  of  wonderful  tidings, 
id  had  believed.    But  yet  the  careful  priest 
fesitated  long  to  admit  to  the  regenerating 
raters  of  baptism  those  of  their  number 
'ho,  he  feared,  were  not  sufficiently  in- 
structed in  the  faith  of  the  Catholic  church, 
'he  untaught  Indian,  accustomed  to  roam 
through  the  wilderness,  with  the  works 


M 


26 


PERE  JEAN^ 


of  God  for  ever  before  his  observant  eyes, 
and  with  incomprehensibilities  around 
him,  unable  to  fathom  the  mysteries  of 
nature,  nay,  the  mysteries  of  his  own  life, 
felt  within  himself  the  conviction  of  a  su- 
preme, invisible  Existence.  With  the 
book  of  nature  open  before  him,  and  na- 
ture's voice  ever  in  his  ear,  he  might  well, 
by  the  dim  light  of  reason,  wander  into 
the  labyrinths  of  polytheism ;  but  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  stifle  or  forget  the 
instinctive  belief  of  humanity  in  the  God 
invisible,  supreme  over  all.  The  unlet- 
tered wanderer  in  the  boundless  forests 
had  reached  the  same  point  of  knowledge 
at  which  it  bad  been  possible  for  the  sage 
of  antiquby  to  arrive*  He  worshipped 
the  ^^  ui^own  God.''  But  the^machinery 
of  the  universe  was  beyond  the  power  of 
his  reason,  and  he  found  a  minor  deity  in 
every  bird  and  beast  and  fish  and  itet  and 
stone.  When  the  Catholic  missionary 
preached  to  him  of  the  God  infinite,  su- 


hal 
di 


\i 


'S-. 


OR   THE    MISSIONARY. 


iS 


ind 
of 
life, 
su- 
the 


f 


preme,  eternal,  filling  all  space,  at  whose 
will  the  world  and  all  its  life  and  beauty 
had  sprung  into  being,  and  at  whose  will 
the  earth  again  would  melt  away,  who 
was  the  Creator  and  the  Lord  of  all,  and 
^^  in  whom  all  things  liveci  and  moved  and 
had  their  being,''  to  his  unsophisticated 
mind,  it  seemed  worthy  of  the  great  Spirit 
which  his  instinct  had  sought  after  in  na*- 
ture,  and  beyond  nature,  in  vain. 

The  piety  and  zeal  and  superior  know* 
ledge  of  the  missionary  had  won  him  cre- 
dence, and  when  he  preached  to  them  of 
the  Saviour  who  had  come  upon  earth, 
of  his  death,  and  of  his  resurrectioti  for 
the  salvation  of  all,  and  unfolded  to  them 
the  evidences  of  Christianity,  they  listened 
with  reverence  to  his  words,  and  cher^ 
ished  them  in  their  hearts.         tr 

In  his  own  canoe.  Father  Jean  Laval 
had  placed  two  of  his  neophytes  for  the 
purpose  of  continuing  their  instruction 
during  the  voyage,  and  Rene  Bourdoise, 


28 


PERE   JEAN, 


in  order  that  he  might  be  schooled  in  the 
best  mode  Oi  conveying  knowledge  to  the 
simple-minded  savage. 

"Huron,  dost  thou  know  who  created 
thee  V^  he  said,  addressing  the  elder  of  the 
Iwo,  a  warrior  of  some  note  whose  in- 
struction he  had  but  lately  commenced. 

^'  The  great  Spirit,  who  made  the  earth 
and  the  waters  and  the  forests,"  replied 
Haukimah,  reverently. 

"  And,  Huron,  did  he  make  the  buffalo 
and  the  bounding  deer?" 

"Yes,  father;  the  buffalo  and  the  bound- 
ing deer,  and  all  things  else  that  live." 

"  And  did  he  make  thee  and  me  like  to 
iheml" 

"  My  fathers  taught  that  the  buffalo  and 
the  bounding  deer  departed  to  the  hunting 
ground  of  spirits  where  the  warrior's 
shade  pursued  them  as  here  on  earth.  It 
is  wrong.  The  blackgown  teacheth  that 
the  great  Spirit  made  man  like  himself, 
and  breathed  his  breath  into  his  nostrils— 


19 


as 

vei 


OR  THE    MISSIONARY. 


29 


|in  the 
|to  the 

eated 
fthe 
e  in- 
led. 
earth 
?plied 

iffalo 

mnd- 

te  to 

and 
iting 
lor's 
It 
that 
lelf, 

8 — 


11 


heaven  was  made  for  the  man  who  doeth 
good.    The  wild  beast  dies  and  perish- 


es. 


99 


'    rr »     '1? 


Father  Jean  Laval^  from  the  foundation 
of  this  simple  questionings  took  occasion 
to  explain  fully  and  minutely^  and  impress 
deeply  upon  the  mind  of  those  whom  he 
was  instructing^  the  history  of  man's 
creation^  his  fall^  and  the  promise  of  his 
redemption^  fulfilled  by  the  coming,  the 
passion,  and  the  glorious  death  of  the  Sa- 
viour of  the  world.  "*  He  told  them  how 
man's  nature  became  corrupt  by  his  fall; 
how  he  became  perverse  through  his  dis- 
obedience, prone  to  evil,  subject  to  all  the 
temptations  of  the  devil.  ,,    ,».   , 

"  It  is  that  which  makes  the  Iroquois 
cruel  and  blood-thirsty,"  said  the  younger 
neophyte;  "the  spirit  of  evil  is  within 
him."''"'*"''^*--^""-  -^^'  -'-"  ^' "-^-^-^r  .    f 

"  As  he  is  with  all  bad  men,  my  son ; 
as  he  is  with  you  when  you  indulge  re- 
vengeful feelings  towards  the  IroqnoiSj 


30 


P£R£   JEAN, 


when  you  would  do  them  evil  for  evil. 
You  raust  love  those  who  hate  you." 

"  Shall  the  Huron  love  the  Iroquois?" 
exclaimed  the  young  warrior  as  his  eyes 
glistened  with  awakened  passion^  and  his 
head  was  elevated  in  disdain  ;  ^'  shall  the 
dove  and  the  hawk  nestle  tCigether  ?"     '  - 

"Is  the  Huron  a  dove  iu  his  heart?" 
broke  in  the  deep  stern  voice  of  Ahasis- 
tari  5  **  the  dove  is  tender.  The  Huron 
brave  should  be  bold  and  fearless  like  the 
eagle."  "      -  *'  '  ^  * 

'*  Let  the  Huron  he  a  dove  in  his  heart," 
said  Father  Jean  Laval  ere  the  young 
Indian  could  open  his  lips  again ;  "  let 
him  be  a  dove  in  purity,  in  meekness,  in 
piety,  in  love.  Let  him  be  the  eagle  of 
his  tribe  when  he  battles  in  a  just  and 
lawful  cause!"  *  ^^  " 

"  My  father  has  spoken  well,"  replied 
the  chief,  in  a  changed  and  softened  tone. 

*'  Yes,  my  dear  children,  your  first  duty 
is  to  God,  the  great  Spirit ;  your  next  is 


«r 


OR  THE   MISSIOlCARr. 


31 


evil. 

I 

eyes 
id  his 
ill  the 


\9f 


-K 


rt  V 

asis* 

uroa 

ethe 


^^''f'Li .  \ 


art/' 
oung 
"let 
s,  in 

le  of 
and 

lied 
)ne. 
uty 
tis 


ri 


% 


o  your  neighbor.  The  good  Spirit  created 
ou  and  all  men  to  love  him  and  serve 
im^  and  he  commands  you  to  love  one 
nother,  even  your  enemies,  to  do  good  to 
hose  that  hate  you.    If  the  Iroquois  is 
erceand  bad,  pity  him,  and  pray  that  he 
ay  become  better,  that  he  may  listen  to 
he  messengers  of  Christ.    If  you  hate  the 
roquois,  in  what  are  you  better  than  he  ?" 
^'It  is  good,"  said  Ahasistari,  ''it  is 
like  a  God  to  forgive.''  -    i-  • 

And  then  Father  Laval  proceeded  to 
inculcate  upon  his  hearers  the  virtues 
which  were  necessary  to,  and  which 
adorned  the  Christian,  showing  how  the 
principles  of  religion  were  entwined 
around  all  the  ties  of  life,  and  how  they 
were  connected  with,  and  ruled  every  cir- 
cumstance of  our  mortal  existence.  He 
instructed  them  in  the  rules  whicji  should 
govern  them  in  their  intercourse  with  all 
men,  and  the  charity  so  sublime  and  su- 
perhuman which  they  should  cultivate  in 


32 


V$¥     PKR£   J£AN>      ft 


their  hearts.  Thus  seizing  every  word 
and  every  trifling  circumstance,  he  made 
them  the  occasion  and  the  vehicle  of  use- 
ful instruction,  and  the  means  of  initiating 
them  into  the  spirit  and  practice  as  well 
as  the  doctrines  of  the  Catholic  church. 

Occasionally,  to  relieve  their  minds  and 
to  break  the  continuous  length  of  his  in- 
structions, he  would  interpose  a  prayer, 
and  occupy  himself  in  teaching  them  the 
responses  to  the  litanies  and  the  prayers 
of  the  rosary.  They  listened  with  docility, 
and  learned  with  quickness  the  por- 
tions assigned  to  them,  and  the  warriors 
seemed  to  vie  with  each  other  in  acquir- 
ing that  great  and  supereminent  know- 
ledge which  the  father  of  the  blackgown 
dispensed  to  them.  Thrice  a  day,  morn- 
ing, noon,  and  night,  the  Jesuit  and  Rene 
Bourdoise  the  novice,  in  accordance  with 
their  previously  adopted  resolution,  re- 
cited the  rosary  to  procure,  through  the 
intercession  of  the  mother  of  God,  the 


bless i  I 
Ahasi 


'wmi> 


OR  THE   MISSIONARY. 


33 


■word 

■ 

Bnade 

M 

■  use- 

m 

lating    ■ 

IwelJ    ■ 

Ih,         ^ 

land        1 

8  la- 

wyer. 

1 

1  the 

■ 

yeta 

H 

>'ity.     B 

por-      H 

iors      mm 

uir-      U 

)IV-        1 

1 

f 


blessings  of  heaven  upon  their  mission. 
Ahasistari  and  the  Catholic  Indians  joined 
io  the  responses  with  devoutness,  and 
seemed  never  to  weary  under  their  labors 
while  thu^  cheered  with  the  refreshing 
dew  of  prayer.    ;  -         .  ,^  v;    ^nm 

In  this  pious  occupation^  the  day  passed 
pleasantly  and  quickly  round.  Father 
LavaU  each  time  they  landed  to  prepare 
their  frugal  repasts^  assembled  the  whole 
party  around  him^  gave  them  a  short  in- 
struction^, and;  having  blessed  their  food^ 
sat  down  upon  the  grass  with  them,  and 
shared  their  frugal  fare.  .    r 

As  night  approached,  Ahasistari  began 
to  look  about  for  a  convenient  spot  to 
bivouac  upon,  and  at  length  selected  a 
beautiful  and  secluded  indenture  in  the 
river  banks,  shaded  by  lofty  trees,  and 
protected  and  rendered  almostimpenetrable 
from  the  land  by  the  thick  undergrowth, 
reaching  some  distance  baek*  from  the 
shore.    Here  they  landed^  and^  drawing 


■./si^i. 


w 


34 


FERE  JEAN; 


up  their  canoes  upon  the  bank,  prepared 
to  pass  the  night  upon  the  spot.  After 
their  evening  meal  had  been  despatche4. 
Father  Laval  was  about  to  commence  an 
instruction  or  exhortation  to  his  compan- 
ions, when  Ahasistari  approached  him  re- 
spectfully, and  said:  V"  <  / 
^  «^My  father,  the  Mohawk  may  be 
abroad  5  his  ear  is  quick !  *^  *  . 

"  Perhaps  it  is  better,^'  said  Father  La- 
'^al,  carrying  out  the  thought  of  the  other, 
without  replying  directly  to  his  words; 
*'  my  children,  meditate,  in  silence,  on 
what  you  have  been  taught  this  day,  and 
pray  to  God  for  protection,  invoking  the 
intercession  of  Mary,  our  holy  Mother.^' 

Wrapping  themselves  in  their  blankets, 
after  bending  their  knees  in  silent  prayer, 
the  Indians  stretched  themselves  upon  the 
ground,  and  soon  sunk  into  the  light  and 
watchful  sleep  of  men  accustomed  to 
snatch  their  repose  in  the  midst  of  danger. 
The  Jesuit  and  Rene  Bourdoise  did  not 


w 


OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 


35 


be 


so  easily  betake  themselves  to  slumber. 
For  the  novice  especially  was  it  a  situa- 
tion calculated  to  drive  sleep  from  his 
eyelids  until  nature  should  sink  into  un- 
consciousness from  exhaustion.  As  he 
lay  wakeful  and  apprehensive,  he  turned 
his  eye  frequently  upon  the  form  of  Aha- 
sistari,  which,  in  the  indistinct  light,  was 
barely  discernible  to  the  steady  gaze.  Oc- 
casionally a  bright  gleam  from  the  expir- 
ing embers  would  lighten  up  the  pictur- 
esque figure  of  the  Indian.  The  warrior 
sat  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  resting  his  head 
upon  his  hand  in  a  careless  manner,  which 
seemed  to  the  young  novice  to  be  the  at- 
titude of  one  wrapt  in  thought  and  con- 
templation. Ahasistari  was  meditating; 
but  every  outward  sense  was  on  the  alert, 
eager  to  <;atch  the  slightest  sound  or  mo- 
tion on  the  forest  or  upon  the  murmuring 
river.  The  stars  were  looking  down  from 
heaven  sweetly  and  tenderly,  shedding  a 
dim  light  upon  the  moving  waters,  whose 


■   "    ^<^T''^'i"^'-'>^' 


'i-'B*^^" 


36 


FERE  JEAN^ 


broken  surface  reflected  the  countless  pen- 
cils of  light  in  myriad  forms  of  quivering 
beauty.  The  unbroken  silence  of  the 
forest  was  distinct  and  clear  from  the  mur- 
muring of  the  waters  on  the  shore  with 
that  distinctness  which  the  listening  ear, 
hanging  over  the  crystal  wave,  can  judge 
between  the  stillness  and  quiescence  of  the 
solemn  grove  and  the  sweet  low  music  of 
the  living  stream.  The  air  was  mild  and 
calm.     It  was  a  night  to  worship  God 

in-  .;"   ■ 

The  hours  passed,  and  the  motionless 

form  of  the  watching  Indian  seemed  to  the 

dull  and  closing  eye  of  the  novice  to  swell 

into  gigantic  size,  and  then  to  shrink  and 

fade  away  to  nothingness,  until,  in  the 

imperceptible  sinking  of  his  senses  under 

fatigue  and  slumber,  the  beauteous  scene 

around  him  passed  from  before  his  closed 

orbs,  and  his  spirit  began  to  wander  in  the 

sunny  fields  of  his  own  dear  France. 

How  long  he  slept  he  knew  not,  but  be 


■■'■■( 


OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 


37 


jn- 


mg 


the 
lur- 
rith 
»ar, 
Ige 
the 
of 
ind 
fod 


was  at  length  aroused  by  the  hand  of  the 
Indian  upon  his  shoulder.  It  was  not  yet 
day^  but  every  preparation  had  already 
been  made  to  depart,  and  the  kindness  of 
the  chief  had  permitted  the  young  man  to 
enjoy  unbroken^  until  the  last  moment^ 
the  deep  and  refreshing  slumber  which 
had  wrapped  his  senses.  Leaping  up 
from  his  hard  couch,  the  young  novice 
performed  his  morning  devotions,  and, 
having  made  his  ablution  in  the  running 
waters,  was  ready  to  take  his  seat  in  the 
canoe  the  moment  it  was  launched.  Father 
Laval  had  resolved  that  Rene  Bourdoise 
and  himself  should  occupy  different  canoes 
during  the  rest  of  the  voyage  in  qrder 
that  the  young  man  might  be  employed  as 
well  as  himself  in  instructing  the  catechu- 
mens, of  whom,  as  we  have  already  said, 
there  was  a  number  not  yet  fully  pre- 
pared, scattered  throughout  the  fleet.  In 
a  few  moments  the  dark  forms  of  the  ca- 
noes shot  out  from  the  banks  of  the  river. 


„  VP','    ■  '-I't  i.~--_^J 


38 


FERE   JEAN. 


Keeping  within  the  verge  of  the  heavy 
shadows  of  the  overhanging  woods,  and 
pursuing  their  course  rapidly  and  silently 
towards  the  new  fort  of  Montreal.  Ere 
the  day  dawned,  they  had  proceeded  many 
miles  upon  their  journey,  when,  striking 
deeper  into  the  current,  the  canoes  drew 
oiU  in  a  more  extended  line,  and  continued 
on  their  course,  r  w 


»V-~.      '-i 


■  J. 


'=■       ^        •   S  'I    '-,:"*-■  ?■ 


■w%  -i-?  (^'■i--  ■■  '"■'■ 


.  if-.; 


,^,      tt-:":;! 


J?    ^(«t?'rr    *y;|^*.; 


,\.  "^^ 


;si#.  ;:«^f  ■^lll.j^vll*^'  l?-v>* 


ivy 
ind 


<    •  • 


CHAPTER  IV 


JMight  upon  the  waters. 


n 


••,«■:.   '.-'ti   (.■■'^J», 


EVERAL  day  a  were  happily 
passed  in  this  manner^  and^  al* 
though  the  progress  of  the  party  had  been 
regular^  the  declining  sun  of  the  fourth 
dav  found  them  still  distant  from  the  shel- 
tering  walls  of  Montreal.  As  they  were 
now  in  the  most  dangerous  portion  of 
their  passage  between  the  two  forts^  it  was 
determined  not  to  land  but  to  continue 
their  voyage  during  the  night ;  the  Indians 
relieving  each  other  at  the  paddle^  and 
snatching  a  moment's  repose^  while  the 
canoes  proceeded  slowly^  and  with  dimin* 
ished  force,  up  the  river. 
.^Stretching  themselves  upon  the  bottom 


^Irl 


,#. 


40 


PERE   JEAN^ 


of  the  canoes.  Father  Laval  and  Rene 
Bourdoise  prepared  to  sleep,  having  com- 
mitted themselves  to  the  keeping  of  God. 
The  novice  had  already  become  in  a  man- 
ner accustomed  to  the  novelty  of  his  situa- 
tion, and  its  danger  from  familiarity  began 
to  lose  the  terror  which  it  had  at  first  pos- 
sessed. Sleep  soon  closed  his  eyes,  for 
his  heart  was  pure,  and  he  had  learned  to 
iook'on  death  too  long  in  the  stern  train- 
ing of  the  Christian  soldier  to  dread  his 
approach,  come  apparelled  as  he  might. 

Even  reflecting  upon  life,  the  Jesuit  is 
taught  to  look  to  its  last  end,  to  value  it  as 
a  means,  worthless  in  itself,  priceless  when 
laid  down  to  purchase  immortal  bliss. 
Death  has  no  pangs  for  him ;  for  him  it 
can  not  sever  any  earthly  ties ;  the  only 
tie  that  binds  him  to  this  earth  leads 
through  the  portals  of  the  tomb  to  heaven. 
Those  gates,  to  most  men  so  dark  and 
gloomy, are  but  the  f-iumphalarch  through 
which  he  shall  pass  when  the  victory 


OR   '^HS   MISSIONARY. 


41 


over  sin  and  hell  is  won  for  him.  Con- 
stant meditation  has  cooled  his  passions, 
stemmed  their  rapid  flow,  apd  taught  him 
well  *the  utter  worthlessness  of  earthly 
pride  and  pleasures  and  possessions.  He 
follows  the  command  of  the  Saviour  to  the 
youth  who  sought  the  rule  of  perfection. 
He  strips  himself  of  earthly  riches.  He 
is  ready  then  to  go  forth  upon  the  world. 
Without  staff  or  scrip  or  raiment,  to  do 
God's  work,  prepared  for  life  or  death  in 
obedience  to  the  will  of  his  divine  Master. 
Calmly  and  sweetly,  trusting  in  the 
loving  care  of  the  mother  under  whose 
powerful  intercession  he  had  placed  him- 
self, the  novice  slept  the  sleep  of  youth. 
Soft  tones,  old  and  fond  remembrances, 
kind  voices  and  familiar  names  seemed 
once  more  to  mingle  in  his  slumoering 
sense,  with  the  light  murmur  of  the  rip- 
pling ware  and  the  low  music  of  the  ze- 
phyr that  fanned  his  cheek.  Dear  faces 
betuned  upon  him.    He  sat 


i  i 


42 


i  r 


PERE  JEAN^ 


M  -I 


the  well  worn  and  familiar  hearth,  and 
his  gray-haired  father  smiled  once  more 
upon  the  son«he  loved,  the  son  of  his  old 
age  vowed  to  the  service  of  his  God.  For 
such  was  the  youthful  Rene :  from  child- 
hood dedicated  to  the  altar,  f)reathing  the 
puje  atmosphere  of  its  unpolluted  pre- 
cincts, conscious  even  in  his  father's 
house  and  in  his  early  years  of  the  solemn 
duty  which  lay  before  him  for  his  future 
life.  Sweetly  came  the  recollection  of  his 
childhood's  home,  and  those  dear  old 
faces,  with  their  beaming  smiles,  melting 
from  beneath  the  frosts  of  years  of  stem 
study  and  deep  holy  meditation,  which  had 
schooled  his  heart  into  higher,  nobler 
thought^  ot  sweeter,  purer  love — ^love  to 
the  Father  of  all  fathers,  engrossing  and 
sublimating  all  true  love  in  his  young 
heart.  But  now  in  dreams  fondly  re- 
tracing many  a  thousand  league,  and 
many  a  toilsome  year,  the  human  spirit' 
true  to  its  human  nature,  back  tb  its  old 


OR  THE    MISSIONARY. 


49 


affecticL^  and  its  mortal  ties  went  huny- 
ing — but  not  forgetful  of  it?  own  heaven-* 
ward  destiny.  It  was  pure  happiness, 
pure  infantile  joy,  such  as  in  childhood  he 
had  felt — for  now  it  seemed  to  him  that 
once  again  he  was  a  child — a  thoughtless, 
gay,  and  cheerful  child — without  a  care, 
without  a  fear,  with  no  responsibility  and 
with  no  feeling  but  of  the  present  moment. 
The  waters  of  the  flowing  river  murmured 
in  his  ear,  and  fancy  broke  the  changeless 
sound  into  some  sweet  old  melody  once 
sung  to  him  by  fond  maternal  lips.  The 
light  but  quivering  stroke  of  the  bending^ 
paddle,  swaying  the  fragile  bark,  and  its 
soft  and  gentle  motion  as  it  cut  the  waters, 
focked  him  sweetly  till  he  lay  like  an  in- 
fant slumbering  on  its  mother's  breast. 
Thus  slept  the  youthful  novice.  ^  -^  ^ 
■^k  Father  Laval  had  more  care  upon  his 
mind,  and  it  was  long  before  he  gave  way 
to  the  weariness  that  hung  upon  his  eye- 
lids.   He  felt  that  the  critical  hour  had  ar? 


44 


PERE   JEAN,      4   > 


rived ;  for  if  the  company  once  reached 
Montreal  and  commenced  to  ascend  the 
Ottawa,  there  was  less  danger  of  being  at- 
tacked by  a  force  more  powerful  than  their 
own.  At  length  he  too  composed  himself 
to  slumber,  confiding  himself  to  the  pro- 
tection of  an  all-seeing  God.  .,. ,  ,  . . .  4 
As  leader  of  the  party,  /^hasistari,  insen- 
sible to  fatigue  when  the  safety  of  his 
charge  might  be  at  issue,  watched  all 
night.  To  the  enduring  nature  of  the  In- 
dian this  was  little,  and  his  band  only 
sought  occasional  repose,  in  order  that  a 
portion  might  be  fresh  and  prepared  for 
any  event.  From  the  prow  of  his  canoe, 
which  had  drawn  from  the  rear  to  the  head 
of  the  line,  the  chief  scanned,  with  keen 
and  watchful  eye,  either  shore  of  the  river 
as  they  ascended.  But  all  nature  slept, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  with  nature  even  thp 
fell  heart  of  man  was  at  rest.  No  maik  or 
trace  of  an  enemy  met  his  eye ;  for  even  in 
the  dim  light  of  the  atsra  the  wondrous 


thi 
all 


T"""  '  •  "■■ 


OR  THE   MISSIONART. 


45 


sense  of  an  Indian  warrior  might  detect 
the  presence  of  his  foe,  and  the  slightest 
sound,  the  breaking  of  a  twig  might  be 
heard  in  the  stillness  of  the  hour  over  the 
murmuring  waters.  But  all  things  were 
silent,  and  the  chief  began  to  hope  that 
perhaps  no  Mohawks  were  out  lying  along 
the  river,  and  that  their  passage  would  be 
made  without  difficulty  or  danger.  But 
he  did  not  become  less  watchful.  '  *^-* 
At  length  the  dark  starlit  canopy  began 
to  lighten  up  faintly  towards  the  east 
Dim  and  almost  imperceptible  was  the  first 
precursor  of  the  dawn,  merely  a  lesser 
darkness.  Thus  it  passed  for  many  min- 
utes, making  the  summits  of  the  far  hills 
sharper  and  more  distinct,  and  shrouding 
the  lower  forest  in  deeper  gloom.  Gradu- 
ally the  view  became  more  distinct,  and 
a  quick  eye  might  barely  trace  the  forms 
of  nature.  The  canoes  were  now  approach- 
ing a  narrower  portion  of  the  river,  and 
Ahasistari  became  more  watchful  than  be- 


-^!S^' 


46 


P£R£  J£AN^ 


fore.  At  length  his  eye  seemed  to  fix 
upon  a  portion  of  the  forest  that  overhung 
the  river  above  them  on  their  route— then 
he  raised  it  up  towards  the  sky  above 
the  woods.  The  scrutiny  did  not  seem  to 
satisfy  him^  and^  guiding  the  canoe  from 
the  shore  so  as  to  bring  the  object  more  to 
the  lights  he  watched  it  as  the  barks  moved 
on.  The  warriors  in  the  rearward  oanoes 
observed  the  motion,  but^  with  apparent  in- 
diffekence^  still  urged  on  their  frail  vessels 
knowing  the  skill  and  coolness  of  their 
leader.  In  a  little  while  the  motion  of  the 
canoe  brought  the  top  of  that  portion  of  the 
forest  opposite  a  bright  clear  star^  and 
across  its  face  for  a  single  instant  came  a 
dimness  like  that  caused  by  a  thin^  wiry 
column  of  snioke  or  vapor.  ..,.  ...^*., ... . 
"Ugh!^^  exclaimed  the  chief,  in  the 
deep  guttural  tone  peculiar  to  the  Indian^ 
and,  with  a  sudden  motion  of  his  paddle> 
he  sent  the  canoe  whirling  in  towards  the 
southern   shore   under  the  shadows  of 


OR   TH£   MISSIQIIARY. 


4T 


the  hills.  Then,  staying  its  progress,  he 
crouched  close  to  diminish  the  risk  of 
observation  by  any  wandering  eye  that 
might  be  upon  the  shore.  His  example 
was  silently  followed,  and  soon  the  line  of 
canoes  lay  within  the  verge  of  the  dark 
shaiows  motionless  and  seemingly  unoc- 
cupied. Not  a  question  was  asked:  no 
anxiety  or  curiosity  was  manifested ;  the 
warriors  coldly  and  impassively  waited  the 
motions  of  their  chief. 

The  keen  eye  of  Ahasistari  still  scanned 
the  forest  with  quick  and  suspicious 
glances,  when  a  slight  sound  struck  upon 
his  ear :  it  seemed  like  the  snapping  of  a 
twig  beneath  a  light  and  cautious  tread. 
The  sound  was  very  faint,  but  it  did  not 
escape  the  ear  of  a  single  warrior,  the 
youngest  and  least  practised.  The  Jesuit, 
who  lay  in  the  canoe  of  the  leader,  began 
to  turn  uneasily  in  his  sleep,  affected  by 
the,  change  from  motion  to  rest,  and  his 
breathing  seemed  to  grow  louder  in  the 


48 


P£RE  JEAir^ 


Stillness  of  things  around.  Ahasistari 
pointed  with  his  finger  to  the  sleeping 
missionary^  and  Haukimah^  the  neophyte^ 
stooped  down  low  over  the  good  father^ 
and  gently  laid  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 
In  a  moment  Father  Laval  opened  his  eyes 
with  a  slight  starts  but  the  low  '^  hist! ''  and 
the  finger  of  the  neophyte  pressed  upon  his 
lips^  indistinctly  visible  in  the  grey  lights 
immediately  recalled  him  to  consciousness. 
A  single  glance  enabled  him  to  catch  at 
least  a  general  idea  of  the  situation  of 
affairs,  and,  raising  his  heart  in  prayer,  he 
awaited  with  resignation  the  end,  whatso- 
ever it  might  be.  Similar  was  the  awaken- 
ing of  Ren6  Bourdoise.  The  young 
novice  had  sooner  fallen  into  a  deep  and 
refreshing  slumber,  and  the  first  checking 
of  the  speed  of  the  canoe  had  startled  him, 
and  its  ceasing  had  aroused  him.  Ob- 
serving the  state  of  preparation  around 
him^  his  young  French  blood,  fiery  yet 
in  spite  of  its  cold  training  from  worldly 


OR  THE   MISSIONARY. 


49 


feeling,  began  to  glow  as  he  thought  that 
the  enemies  of  France  and  the  foes  of  his 
religion  might  perhaps  be  at  chat  moment 
lying  within  reach,  and  that  battle  between 
-man  and  man,  in  which  he  durst  bear  no 
part,  might  soon  take  place  before  his  eyes. 
It  was  not  without  an  effort  that  he  sue- 
ceeded  in  restraining  these  feelings,  and 
giving  himself  up  to  the  weapons  of  prayer 
and  humiliation  of  spirit.  A  young,  teight, 
glowing  heart  had  Rene  Bourdoise.  Wa- 
took,  his  pupil,  who  sat  by  his  side,  ob- 
served the  mental  struggle  of  the  young 
ecclesiastic,  and  marked  the  sparkling  of 
his  eye,  and  his  heart  swelled  with  a 
deeper  affection  as  he  beheld  the  subdued 
workings  of  the  noble  spirit  within. 

**  Will  the  young  blackgown  share  Wa- 
took's  weapons  ?"  he  said  in  a  low  whis- 
per ;  ^^  Watook  has  a  keen  and  polished 
knife,  and  his  carabine  is  sure^ — they  shall 
be  his  brother's.  Watook  will  use  the 
weapons  of  his  people."  As  he  spoke,  the 


60 


iU    P£R£  JEaiff     i%p 


generous  young  warrior  drew  the  knife 
from  his  belt^  and  tendered  the  arms  to 
the  young  novice.  ^  j, ...  A%f»#c#***^rj 
m:A  deep  blush  suffused  the  fine  face  of 
Rene  Bouidoise.  Ic  was  impossible  to  tell 
what  feeling  most  predominated  in  the  in- 
ward .struggle,  and  sent  the  evidence  of 
shame  tingling  to  his  cheek ;  whether  was 
it  the  manhood  and  the  spirit  of  flesh  yet 
unsubdued  within  him,  that  scorned  to  act 
like  a  woman  when  the  strife  should  come, 
and  yet  durst  not  receive  the  proffered 
weapons  which  must  remain  so  idle  in  his 
hands ;  or  was  it  a  conscious  shame  that 
his  demeanor,  forgetful  of  the  bearing  of 
the  Christian  messenger  of  love  and  faith, 
had  wakened  in  the  heart  of  the  savage 
such  thoughts  as  caused  his  offer,  when 
he  should  have  been  preparing  with  silent 
prayer  and  resignation  to  win  his  martyr's 
crown /?  lie  gazed  upon  the  weapons  for 
a  moment,  but  the  training  of  the  novice 
amidst  silence  and  conteniplation,  was  \m 


OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 


Strong  for  the  impulse  of  the  passions^  and 
putiing  them  aside  he  said  ir^-m.^^m  imi^fwi^. 
"  "  Keep  your  arms^  my  brother !  They 
would  be  useless  in  my  hands ;  I  know 
not  how  to  wield  them.  I  am  a  man  of 
peace.  None  vowed  to  the  service  of  the 
altar  may  stain  their  hands  in  human 
blood,  but  mu^t  submit  to  the  trials  which 
are  given  them.  Oh,  my  Father!"  he 
continued  mentally,  "who  readest  all 
hearts,  forgive  the  sinful  thoughts  which 
carried  me  away,  and  stirred  up  the  evil 
of  my  nature  j"  and  bowing  down  his 
head,  he  sat  composed  and  motionless,  not 
less  the  wonder  than  the  admiration  of  the 
young  man,  who  saw  that  fear  had  nothing 
to  do  with  conduct,  to  him,  hitherto  Uttle 
acquainted  with  the  missionaries,  so  inex- 

<  As  the  canoes  swung  in  towards  the 
shore  impelled  by  an  occasional  stroke  of 
the  paddle,  the  current  bore  them  some- 
what  lower  down  the  river.    The  descent 


■  ■i«wt^i!if>7i.;""!'3^'T^;"'=,^^»'VM>'?'^''.''  ■■ 


52 


1.4    PERK  JEAN, 


was  endent ;  for  che  trees  upon  the  bank 
seemed  slowly  to  pass  by  them,  as  it  were, 
givin^  the  appearance  of  rest  to  the  canoes. 
The  Indians  did  not  endeavor  to  keep  them 
on  their  former  course,  but  permitted  them 
to  drop  gently  down  the  stream.  Father 
Laval  kept  his  eye  intently  fixed  upon  the 
forest ;  but  he  found  it  difficult  to  pene- 
trate the  darkness  which  shrouded  it.  The 
canoes  had  now  reached  a  point  where  the 
underwood  was  not  so  thick  as  that  above, 
and  where  there  was  but  little  danger  of  an 
ambush.  Ahasistari  again  emitted  a  low 
exclamation,  and  pointed  towards  an  open 
part  of  the  forest.  The  eye  of  Father  La- 
val followed  the  direction,  and  up  the 
stream,  in  the  rear  of  the  heavy  under- 
wood, he  caught  a  momentary  glimpse  of 
the  dying  embers  of  a  fire.  The  thick 
trunk  of  a  tree  in  the  next  instant  con- 
cealed it  from  his  sight.  There  was  no 
sign  of  life  or  motion  nea&  it  or  around  it. 
He  again  assumed  his  place  at  the  bottom 


i  • 


OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 


53 


of  the  canoe  from  which  he  had  raised 
himself  to  look  around.  The  eye  of  the 
chief  was  now  turned  upon  the  portion  of 
the  forest  immediately  before  them^  and 
he  held  a  consultation  in  low  tones  with 
the  old  warrior  by  his  side.    ^        ^^^    ' 

"  Haukimah^  the  trail  is  there/^  he  said, 
pointing  to  a  spot  which  seemed  to  the  Je- 
suit, who  again  raised  his  head  as  the 
chief  spoke,  to  present  no  marks  by  which 
to  distinguish  it  from  the  banks  above  or 
below  it.  ■.■^.-  •■;...,.-•. -^i -^^ > -V* 4- 

"  Yes,  the  Mohawk  has  left  it  broad— 
a  yengeese  might  follow  in  it :  the  Mo- 
hawk is  cunning !''  ^r-  >    :^?r^  -^a? 

'^  He  is  a  wolf,  but  he  leaves  his  trail 
like  a  bear.''  "    i ,-  -^^m^.:,fmk 

The  old  Indian  shook  his  head  doubt- 
ingly,  and,  after  a  moment's  pause,  re- 
plied 


?^->^  '•SKK.' 


,(f..f  .      ¥  j-f.,-  A,; 


■'i:i*0'l--^'mf:  ^ 


i€ 


The  Iroquois  can  hide  his  trail  if  he 
will — he  is  strong}  he  has  left  a  broad 

trail*"  i¥ . *fiw^'  m:i'4m^i  -  fm  mrnm^^rnvf^w^ww 


: 


I  • 


54 


PERE  JEAN^ 


I  "  No,  he  would  have  concealed  it  then." 
^5fe»**  Yes,  if  making  an  ambush ;  but  he  is 
strong  and  fears  not  pursuit ;  his  fire  is 
burning  out ;  he  has  gone ;''  and  Hauki- 
mah  pointed  towards  the  south.    . 

It  did  not  seem  impossible  that  the  party 
of  Mohawks  had  passed  on  by  that  route 
during  the  night,  leaving  their  fire  behind 
them  unextinguished,  and  their  trail  so 
broad  as  to  negative  the  idea  of  an  ambush 
at  that  spot ;  yet  the  chief  determined  to 
reconnoitre  more  closely  before  he  ven- 
tured to  pass  onwards  in  front  of  the  sus- 
picious spot,  and  thus  expose  his  party  to 
the  certainty  of  discovery  and  pursuit. 

The  light  had  already  become  more  dis- 
tinct, and  the  marks  about  which  the  war- 
riors difiered  became  at  last  visible  to 
Father  Laval  himself,  though,  had  not  his 
attention  been  directed  to  the  spot,  he 
could  not  have  discovered  their  existence. 
The  low  bushes  on  the  edge  of  the  water 
were  displaced  and  beaten  down,  though 


OR   TH£    MISSIONARY. 


55 


9f 


fl 


portions  seemed  as  if  carefully  replaced, 
while  the  underwood  above  on  the  higher 
portion  of  the  bank,  which  extended  up- 
wards a  few  feet  from  the  surface  of  the 
water,  presented  on  their  lower  branches 
bent  and  broken  boughs  and  torn  leaves, 
as  if  done  by  the  grasp  of  persons  care- 
lessly ascending.  The  canoes  still  con- 
tinued to  near  the  shore,  and  were  kept 
by  the  occasional  stroke  of  the  paddle  from 
descending  farther  down  the  current. 
They  were  now  within  a  very  short  dis- 
tance of  the  bank,  but  it  was  impossible  to 
discover  there  the  least  evidence  of  life  or 
motion,  and  the  two  Frenchmen  began  to 
comfort  themselves  with  the  reflection  that 
the  Indians  had  departed,  and  that  nothing 
wastobeapprehended.  TheHurons,  how- 
ever, were  still  silent  and  watchful,  caa- 
tiouoly  concealing  as  much  of  their  bodies 
as  they  could  in  their  canoes.  The  chief 
again  turned,  and  spoke  in  a  low  tone  to 
Haukimah.    ?*^j*  #«v«i'?^;^fi»^':^#^^  > 


'•i ' 


a 


■f^A 


4iUilluM£lKllMU>'^'U('^  .:^  'ix. 


r"^^ 


56 


PEtlE  JEAN, 


€€ 


How  many  does  my  brother  count 
upon  the  sand  ?"  and  he  pointed  to  the 
bank  at  the  edge  of  the  water.  :    t 

^  The  old  warrior  held  up  three  fingers. 

"  Yes,  there  were  but  three  canoes  of 
them/*  said  Ahasistari ;  "  there  is  nothing 
to  fear.'*     ■'■"■  ^"^'  "''-^.'^  ^.^  -'■  '■ '  ■  '■'<  x -'tf'.;',  >.t.  >iif^ 

Father  Laval  looked  in  wonder  for  the 
indications  from  which  the  warriors  had 
drawn  their  conclusion,  out  in  vain.  To 
the  Indian  they  were  plain  enough.  It 
seemed  that  the  Mohawks,  if  Mohawks 
they  were,  had  proceeded  with  an  utter 
disregard  of  the  usual  precautions  which 
Indians,  especially  in  an  enemy's  coun- 
try, adopted  to  conceal  their  path.  On 
the  sand  the  prints  of  moccasined  feet 
were  stamped  deeply,  but  were  scarcely 
perceptible  in  the  dim  light,  and  in  three 
places,  close  together,  the  indentures  made 
by  the  bow  of  a  canoe,  carelessly  dragged 
from  the  water,  were  indistinctly  seen. 
Whilst  the  two  jshiefs  more  closely  f  z- 


lit 


or 
C< 
in 


OR  THfi   MISSIONARY, 


67 


amined  the  shore  to  discoTer  if  any  de- 
ception were  practised  upon  them^  th« 
canoe  in  which  the  novice  was  placed  shot 
up  towards  them^  and  the  young  Indian 
Watook,  uttering  a  hiss  like  that  of  the 
water  snake,-^so  like  that  Father  Laval 
involuntarily  started  with  disgust  at  th^ 
seeming  proximity  of  the  imaginary  rep- 
tile,— exclaimed,  "  The  Mohawk ! "         ^ 
Every  eye  followed  the  direction  of  his 
extended  hand,  and  at  the  moment  a  dusky^ 
form  was  seen  darting  rapidly  from  one- 
tree  to  another,  lower  down  and  nearer 
the  canoes.    An  instant  after  a  wild  yell 
broke  from  the  forest ;  the  flash  of  rifles 
lit  up  its  dark  shades  and  gleamed  upon 
the  waters ;  a  cloud  of  arrows  rattled  down  ^ 
upon  them,  and  half  stifled  groans  arose 
from  the  canoes.    Every  shot  came  from 
•above,  none  as  yet  from  the  forest  in  front* 
or  below  the  canoes.   ?Jone  was  returned.  ^ 
Covered  with  dense  smoke,  and  concealed 
in  their  coverts,  the  unseen  foe  would  haves 
5 


58 


PERK  JEAN, 


suffered  little  from  the  fire  of  the  canoes 
had  they  returned  it.  The  moment  that 
the  yell  broke  out.  Father  Laval  felt  the 
light  boat  spring  suddenly  in  the  water^ 
impelled  by  the  powerful  arms  of  the 
HuronS;  who  sternly  and  silently  bent  to 
their  paddles,  hoping  to  reach  a  cover,  and 
make  successful  defence.  The  discovery, 
the  war-cry,  and  the  rattling  volley  fol- 
lowed each  other  almost  instantaneously; 
but  the  impulse  to  the  light  barks  had  been 
80  quick  and  strong  that,  ere  the  volley 
pealed,  they  had  cleared  half  the  space 
towards  the  shore.  It  was  a  fortunate 
movement ;  the  rapidity  of  their  progress 
had  rendered  the  aim  of  their  ambushed 
foes  uncertain^  with  the  clumsy  and  un- 
sure weapons  with  which  the  Dutch  >f 
New  York  scantily  furnished  them  in  their 
trade.  But  the  speed  of  the  canoe  began 
to  relax,  broken  paddles  floated  in  the  wa<- 
ter,  and  the  Indians  who  had  borne  them 
crouched  low,  grasping  their  arms,  and 


iSi  .xCii^f.'i 


OR  THE   MISSIONARY. 


59 


watching  intently  for  some  object^  head^ 
leg,  or  arm^  to  aim  at.  The  Jesuit  felt 
the  water  slowly  rising  around  his  feet — 
the  canoe  was  riddled,  and  was  filling  fast. 
Little  better  was  the  fate  of  the  rest.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  foe  had  aimed  principally 
at  the  canoes,  as  if  to  prevent  escape,  and, 
had  all  their  shots  taken  effect,  they  must 
have  sunk  at  once.  f  ,  v 

It  was  a  moment  of  intense  anxiety — 
death  from  the  ambush,  death  from  the 
wave,  was  before  them  and  around.  It 
was  doubtful  whether  they  could  reach 
the  shore.  In  the  midst  of  danger  there 
was  one  thought  more  painful  to  the  Je- 
suit than  the  thought  of  death.  There 
were  those  around  him  who  bad  not  yet 
been  baptized,  and  with  agony  he  reflected 
that  each  pealing  shot,  each  hissing  shaft, 
might  send  one  of  these  unfortunate  child-^ 
ren  of  the  forest,  unwashed  from  the  dark 
stain  of  sin,  to  the  preseQceof  his  God.  Th9 
shots  that  every  instant  whistled  around 


A 


60 


PERK  JKAN, 


■J,  '  t 


him  had  no  terrors  for  him:  the  deep 
responsibility  of  human  souls  was  upon 
him*  '  •  -■    ■•   ,,----•  f^-  '■  '■  "  •  •••.  -  •  . 

The  old  warrior  Haukimah  sat  motion* 
less  before  him.  His  head  was  rested  on 
his  hand^  his  rifle  lay  across  his  knee — 
he  looked  steadily  in  the  face  of  the  priest, 
and  marked  with  deep  concern  the  pain 
which  shot  adioss  his  features.  The  huntr 
ing  shirt  of  the  warrior  was  dripping  with 
Iblood^  yet  no  sign  of  pain  escaped  him,  but 
p,  wistful  glance  lingered  upon  his  face  as 
he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  countenance  of 
^he  Jesuit.    ^  ■  ^*^      *  >  ■■       M,.v^^T*if' 

^^You  are  wounded?"   said  Father 

Liavalf  r  -  '<- 

''The  Indian  slowly  and  somewhat 
painfully  bowed  his  head.  m'^^^^^ 

''And  seriously— it  is  near  your  heart  !*' 
continued  the  priest,       ?*'  * 

"  Haukimah's  last  fight  is  fought,'^  re- 
plied the  Indian  patiently :  "  he  will  go  to 
the  spirit  land." 


fei 


^M. 


OR  THK    MlStlONARY. 


61 


'  **  And^  alas !  you  have  not  yet  been  bap- 
tized.*' 
'' I  have  sought  it — I  wait!'* 
'^Yes^  it  has  been  delayed  that  you 
might  be  further  instructed:   you  have 
been  instructed — it  can  be  delayed  no 

A  faint  smile  of  joy  passed  over  the 
stern  features  of  the  wounded  man,  and 
their  look  of  fixed  deter  iiiiation  relaxed 
into  a  softer  expression.  «  ^ 

*  **  It  is  good/'  he  said  quietly. 

J  "Do  you  repent  for  all  your  offences 
against  the  good  Spirit?" 

*'  I  have  ever  loved  him ;  if  I  have  of- 
fended, I  am  sor-y^"  he  said  faintly. 

*  There  was  no  space  for  further  ques-* 
tioning,  and  the  good  priest  arose,  his  large 
form  presenting  a  fair  mark  to  the  foe; 
heedless  of  danger,  he  stooped  and  filled 
his  hand  with  water  from  the  river,  and, 
pouring  it  upon  the  upraised  forehead  of 
the  warrior,  pronounced  the  holy  and 


■M 


63 


PERE   JEAN/ 


mystic  words  of  the  sacrament.  Tbe  eye 
of  the  dying  Indian  again  lit  up — a  joyous 
smile  passed  once  more  across  his  features ; 
his  lips,  motionless  before,  opened,  and 
faint  indistinct  words  of  prayer  escaped 
them.  Then  a  gushing  sound  was  heard ; 
his  hand  moved  wanderingly  towards  the 
wound — the  blood  was  bursting  from  it  in 
a  dark  and  bubbling  stream.  His  head 
sank  upon  his  breast,  and  the  spirit  of  the 
"regenerated"  had  taken  its  flight. 

^*  May  he  rest  in  peace,''  mentally  ejac- 
ulated Father  Jean  Laval  as  he  cast  his 
eye  once  more  upon  the  scene  around. 
It  had  now  become  terrific.  The  fragile 
bark  was  sinking  beneath  them ;  escape 
by  the  river  was  impossible:  escape  by 
the  shore  seemed  already  doubtful.  The 
brave  Hurons,  taken  at  disadvantage,  were 
unable  to  display  their  accustomed  valor. 
At  a  signal  from  the  chief,  two  warriors 
sprang  from  the  canoe,  and  thus  lightened 
and  buoyed  up  the  sinking  bark,  at  the 


v:p  ,1^  Wj.  If ,_ -■■_/^  - ', ,  V  ,_.v^;;  U..;. v«  1  ^■^  Wirt],!  >;^^  ,r, 'TiT^ 


rTrv'7«'Trr-;-irr7  -^'j^s-r.^^i!^'^ 


OR  THE  MISSIOlfARY. 


■^4 


same  moment,  almost,  a  few  strokes  sent 
it  within  fording  of  the  land.  Every  man^ 
made  for  the  shore,  grasping  his  rifle  in 
his  left  hand,  while  his  right  brandished 
his  tomahawk.  Ahasistari  bounded  to  the 
beach.  Bidding  Father  Jean  Laval  to 
follow  him,  it  was  but  a  moment's  work 
to  reach  a  cover  in  the  woods.  He  was 
seconded  by  a  number  of  his  braves,  and 
ere  the  last  canoe  had  touched  the  Ishore, 
the  sharp  crack  of  the  Huron  carabines^ 
was  heard  on  \he  flank  of  the  IroquoisJ 
As  suddenly  the  firing  ceased.  The  Iro-^ 
quois, surprised  by  the  unexpected  activity 
of  the  Huron  movement,  clung  close  to 
their  coverts,  and  for  a  time  a  fearful  and 
unbroken  silence  hung  upon  the  scene  of 
death. 

Upon  the  shore,  by  the  side  of  a  dying 
Indian,  knelt  Father  Jean  Laval.  The 
cross  of  Christ  was  in  his  hands,  and  the 
eyes  of  the  departing  rested  on  it.  Words 
of  holy  comfort  flowed  from  his  lips ;  the 


64 


PERE   J£.%N. 


solemn  absolution  was  pronounced^  and, 
anointed  and  annealed,  the  spirit  of  the 
Chridtian  warrior  took  its  flight,  in  the 
midst  of  the  stern  silence  that  momentarily 
reigned  around  that  scene  of  strife,  to  re- 
gions where  neither  battle  nor  death  can 
come.  As  the  last  convulsive  throb  of 
dying  agony  ceased,  and  the  muscular 
limbs  of  the  warrior  fell  back  motionless 
from  the  death  struggle,  the  priest  arose 
from  his  posture  by  the  side  of  the  lifeless 
body.  *'  Have  mercy  on  him.  Oh  Lord  I '' 
he  said  in  a  low,  sad  voice,  and  turned 
away  towards  the  forest  ?  tp?  ^^^t  i> 

f 

n 


"^'m^  '\i^ 


;«; 


-^mt 


v^'rny      n-.'  ..■'w.*7viii'_**-'  ^■^"♦%-.»*'r's*  P^ 


W'-i  « 


■§-  ym:- 


~\^ 


^?-^%,  -^^mmM 


'\iW  p§1^m-:  n 


The  Cmflict. 


"■M  I'i 


.VtvS:«^ 


[ILENCE  and  darkness  on  the 
scene!  Not  a  movement  in  the 
forest — ^not  a  ray  of  lights  save  the  dim 
grey  of  the  far-off  sky — ^no  sound  but  the 
half  hushed  moan  of  pain,  jarring  sadly 
with  the  soft  music  of  flowing  waters. 
It  was  a  living  solitude.  No  voices  were 
heard  where  there  were  many  ready  to 
break  forth  in  fury;  and  where  there 
were  many  glowing  with  the  flame  of 
human  passion,  no  forms  were  seen  but 
one.    That  form  enclosed  a  gentle  spirit. 

"The  Jesuit  strode  towards  the  forest. 

*  Gloom  was  upon  his  path,  but  an  in- 
vincible tranquillity  reigned  within  his 


'W^m 


66 


^£RE  JEAK, 


bret^st.  Oyer  the  stillness^  more  startling 
by  it?  sudden  contrast  with  the  wild  peal 
of  battle  which  had  ceased  so  suddenly, 
came  now  and  then  the  rustling  of  leaves, 
as  the  ambushed  foes  fell  guardedly  back, 
assuming  new  positions,  and  manoeu- 
vring with  the  cautiousness  of  Indian  war- 
fare. It  was  at  the  mingling  of  night  and 
morning,  and  the  fading  stars  looked  sadly 
down  their  parting,  as  it  were,  into  the 
soul  of  the  dark  river.'  >-    ;  > 

The  priest  pressed  on,  heedless  or  un- 
conscious of  the  danger  that  lurked  within 
the  forest.  He  gained  the  opening  of  a 
slight  ravine — as  he  stepped  forward  an 
obstacle  caught  his  foot,  and  he  fell  to  the 
earth.  Putting  out  his  hand  to  raise  him- 
self, it  rested  upon  a  cap — ^he  held  it  up 
to  examine  it — it  was  the  cap  of  Rene  the 
novice.  A  shudder  passed  through  his 
frame — there  was  a  murmur  of  sorrow 
and  prayer,  a  sinking  of  the  heart — but  he 
still  passed  on,    A  few  feet  further  lay  a 


rvf'"''^  ■ -T^^TTT fl^^lW"  T^iTT^'' 


T"!^7T?^"?*^ 


'■.\- 


OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 


67 


,■;  ■• :} 


wounded  Huron.  A  low  sigh  escaped 
the  lips  of  the  warrior^  and  he  endearored  « 
to  turn  himself  upon  the  ground^  but  in 
vain.  The  Jesuit  bent  over  the  Indian, 
and,  in  a  low  whisper,  asked  him :  "Son, 
hast  thou  been  baptized?'^  -^^i^^* 

"No,  my  father !'*  he  said  in  a  faint 
and  weak  voice. 

The  place  they  occupied  at  the  bottom 
of  the  ravine  was  somewhat  covered  from 
the  position  of  the  Iroquois.  There  was 
yet  time  for  Father  Laval  to  seek  cover, 
in  the  rear  of  his  Hurons,  and  perhaps 
escape  would  have  been  possible;  for; 
the  Iroquois  were  now  busily  occupied 
in  slowly  and  cautiously  extending  their 
forces  in  order  to  outflank,  and  thus  dri\*» 
the  Christian  warriors  from  their  covers. 
So  guarded  had  been  the  movements  of 
both  parties,  and  such  the  gloom,  that,  as 
yet,  neither  Huron  nor  Iroquois  had  gained 
an  opportunity  of  firing  with  any  certainty 
of  aim,  and  both  were  too  wary  to  throw 


M 


/ 


/ 


68 


.T;^ 


PllliS  JEAKj 


p. 


away  a  shot,  and,  at  the  same  time,  dis- 
cover their  whole  maiiceuvre  lo  th  i  foe  by 
the  flash  of  their  fire-arms.  -  .-  • 
1^  Father  La^/al  arose  and  crept  lightly  to- 
wards the  river.  Ap  he  pa'^seJ  by  a  little 
hillock  or  mound,  he  was  ^  tartled  by  the 
cracking  of  a  twig  and  a  low  hiss  like  that 
ora  serpent.  Hesitating  a  moment,  he 
recollected  the  sound  he  had  heard  in  the 
canoe,  and,  reassured,  fixed  his  eye  upon 
the  spot  until  he  distinguished  a  dark  ob- 
ject moving  towards  him,  and  slowly 
erecting  its  head  from  the  ground  as  it  ap- 
proached. In  a  moment  more  Ahasistari 
was  at  his  feet,  and  in  a  low  voice  ad- 
dressed  him:        '-:.    ■■M^P>-<^',:.:^^^^i      t:.;a     V.,,  :.V..,:.,     . 

*' Father,  hasten;  there  is  yet  time  to 
fly!    Follow  me!"^-.,,,^^^.,  ,^^,^,,,,, , . .  • 

*'  I  can  not,"  said  the  Jesuit ;  "  there 
are  souls  to  be  saved — the  dying  to  be 
baptized!      Fly   you,   and   save   your 

i^^ySo* .  Ahasistari  will  not  fly  without 


OR  THB   MISSIOKARY. 


69 


fki: 


. 


fi 


'     ...      -■     "^  . 


his  father/'  said  the  Indian^  drawing  him- 
self up  proudly  from  the  ground.      ii^^^ 

''Go,  chief;  you  have  your  duties,  I 
have  mine ;  the  brave  man  does  his  duty, 
and  leaves  the  rest  to  God.  Go  you  to 
yours — Cleave  me  to  mine."    ^i 

''  You  will  not  follow  me  ?" 

"I  dare  not,'*  and  the  Jesuit  pointed 
back  to  the  spot  where  he  had  left  the 
wounded  Indian.  The  chieftain  turned 
his  eye  towards  it.  ^i  r^^  --ii-ws*** 
. "  It  is  not  far  from  the  end  of  their  line ! 
You  will  do  your  duty.    Ahasistari  will 

do  his  by  your  side .   Hist !"  hesaid, 

suddenly  interrupting  himself,  and  raising 
his  finger  to  demand  silence.  Father 
Laval  listened  intently,  and  discovered 
the  light  trampling  of  moccasined  feet; 
then  the  low  cry  of  an  owl  struck  upon 
his  ear,  and  again  all  was  silent.     *^  #* - 

/fThey  are  gathering  for  a  charge,'' 
said  the  chieftain.  ''  Ahasistari  must  be 
there  to  meet  them.    When  you  hear  the 


70 


;   (    PERE  JEAN, 


':* 


war  cry  of  the  Hurons,  know  that  your 
children  are  fighting  to  save  you.  Has- 
ten along  down  the  shore  and  seek  a  hiding 
place.''  The  chief  stretched  himself  upon 
the  ground,  and  was  soon  lost  in  the  ob- 
scurity which  still  pervaded  the  scene. 

With  a  rapid  step  the  Jesuit  turned  to- 
wards the  river,  lifting  up  his  heart  to 
God,  as  he  went  along,  for  assistance  in 
this  trial.  To  fill  his  cap  with  water,  and 
retrace  his  steps  to  the  side  of  the  wounded 
Indian,  was  but  the  work  of  a  moment. 
The  eyes  of  the  warrior  fastened  upon  the 
cooling  liquid  that  oozed  from  the  cap; 
and  with  a  supplicating  look,  he  laid  his 
finger  upon  his  parched  and  feverish  lip, 
and  uttered  the  single  word  "water." 
The  Jesuit  raised  his  head  upon  his  arm, 
and  applied  the  cooling  draught  to  the 
sufferer's  mouth.  A  grateful  expression 
passed  across  his  countenance,  and  Father 
Jean  laid  his  head  once  more  upon  the  turf; 
and,  having  uttered  a  prayer,  stretched 


OR  TU£   MISSIONARY. 


71 


forth  his  hand^  about  to  pour  upon  his 
head  the  regenerating  waters  of  baptism. 
At  that  moment  a  heavy  grasp  was  laid 
upon  his  bared  head,  which  was  drawn 
backwards  till  his  uplifted  gaze  rested 
upon  the  fierce  countenance  of  an  Iro- 
quois, whose  right  hand  brandished  above 
him  a  scalping  knife  already  dripping  with 
blood.  A  fiendish  smile  played  upon  the 
features  of  the  savage  as  he  paused  to  con- 
template his  work.  There  was  time  \-^A 
moment!  oh, inestimable  moment!  worlds 
could  not  purchase  thy  value.  There 
was  time.  The  baptismal  water  laved 
gently  the  brow  of  the  dying,  and  the 
words  of  the  sacrament  arose — '^  O,  Godt 
I  thank  thee — ^"  exclaimed  tjie  Jesuit; 
and  the  knife  of  the  savage  began  to  de- 
scend«  A  single  shot  pealed  suddenly 
upon  the  silence. 

Ahasistari,  the  fearless  chief  of  the  Hu- 
ron8,had  crept  back  swiftly  to  the  position 
of  his  warriors,  and  prepared  to  meet 


72 


PEKE  JEAN. 


n 


the  expected  onslaught  of  the  Mohawks. 
With  the  quick  and  ready  skill  of  the  In- 
dian^ he  determined  to  entrap  the  foe  when 
the  assault  should  begin^  and  had  already 
placed  himself^  with  a  few  chosen  men, 
stealthily  in  advance,  in  a  nearer  and  more 
favorable  position,  when  his  eye,  wander- 
ing uneasily  in  search  of  the  Jesuit,  rested 
upon  the  spot  where  he  had  left  him. 
Dimly  it  caught  the  form  of  the  priest, 
bent  back  by  the  strong  grasp  of  the  sav< 
age,  and  the  uplifted  knife  suspended.   He 
sprang  forward.    To  fire  was  to  disclose 
his  stratagem  to  the  foe;  to  desist  would 
be  death  to  the  priest.    He  sternly  swung 
his  carabine  into  rest — his  sinewy  hands 
grasped  it  as  firmly  as  if  the  muscles  had 
been  steel.    Thus  it  rested  for  a  moment, 
motionless;  then  came  the  clicking  of  the 
trigger  and  a  cloud  of  smoke,  with  a  she<et 
of  flame  from  the  muzzle  swept  over  his 
still  form.    The  blow  of  the  Iroquois  de- 
scended :  but  it  was  the  harmless  falling 


OR   TH£    MISSIONARY. 


78 


of  the  lifeless  arm — the  bullet  of  the  Hu- 
ron had  passed  through  his  heart.  He 
fell  forward  heavily  upon  the  priest. 

Out  broke  the  fierce  war  whoop  of  the 
Mohawks — shots  pealed  and  arrows  flew. 
Then  came  the  wild  rush,  the  trampling 
of  many  feet  bursting  through  the  forest 
covers,  and  the  clash  of  many  weapons. 
Hand  ^o  hand,  Mohawkaj^d  Huron  fought. 
The  occasional  flash  of  fire-arms  blazed 
around,  lighting  up  the  scene  with  its 
lurid  rays,  which  glanced  upon  the  plume 
of  the  warrior  as  he  sprang  forward  to  the 
charge,  and  sparkled  upon  his  uplifted 
weapons,  made  the  waving  forest  spray 
glow  as  if  touched  with  liquid  fire,  antf 
dancing  madly  along  the  rippling  waters 
of  the  dark  river.  Over  the  wild  music 
of  battle,  which  man  in  his  strength  and 
passion  loves,  came  subdued  the  sorrow- 
fill  moaning  of  the  wounded.  ^  '?t    ' 

A  few  rapid  bounds  brought  the  Huron 
chief  to  the  side  of  the  priest.    Raising 
>     8 


74 


PIRE   JEAN, 


him  up  gentl/f  he  said^  when  he  saw  him 
recovered  from  the  effects  of  the  incident : 
'^  Father^  go  now!  Far  down  the  bank 
of  the  river  you  will  find  the  undergrowth 
thick  and  heavy— keep  by  the  edge  of  the 
water.  We  are  outnumbered;  our  only 
hopcTis  in  flight.  The  Hurons  will  re- 
main while  you  remain.  When  you  have 
fled^  we  also  w^l  seek  safety.''      « 

"Then  I  must  go!"  said  the  Jesuit^ 
and  gtfthering  up  around  him  the  long 
bt0ek  gown  which  he  wore^  he  prepared 
to  fly  from  the  spot.  ^*   ^ 

Ahasistari  stooped  down  and  grasped 
the  scalp  lock  of  his  foe^  and  was  about 
'to  pass  his  knife  around  the  skiato  tear 
it  from  his  head.    His  hand  was  arrested 
by  the  priest — '^''-  "      -■■••^''"^  ■.n^:''^^^^Mi^-:^'h 
"Do  not  violate  the  dead,  my  son!'' 
" He  is  a  Mohawk,  my  father!"     - 
"  He  is  a  man — you  have  killed  him  in 
batde-^o  not  mutilate  his  body.    It  is  not 
Christian."  p 


Sm* 


MftM* 


OR   THK    MISSIONARY. 


75 


The  warrior  raised  himself  from  the 
body  of  his  foe,  and  reverently  made  the 
sign  of  the  cross  upon  his  forehead :  then, 
pointing  the  way  to  the  Jesuit,  bounded 
back  to  his  first  position  amid  a  shower  of 
balls  and  arrows  that  whistled  around  him 
as  he  emerged  from  the  ravine.  Looking 
back,  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  form  of 
the  Jesuit  hurrying  down  the  path  he  had 
designated.  In  the  next  moment  the  Hu- 
ron chief  was  in  the  thickest  of  the  con- 
flict. .,  '•^.5.  '  •.•:■.      '•«  ' 

Gathering  new  spirit  from  the  presence 
of  their  leader,  the  Christian  warriors  still 
made  good  their  position  against  the  foe ; 
but  it^as  evident  that  the  struggle  could 
not  be  long  protracted.  Yet  each  mo- 
ment gained  served  to  increase  the  distance 
between  the  Iroquois  and  their  father  of 
the  black  gown.  At  length  the  thinned 
numbers  of  his  warriors  gave  notice  to  the 
chief  that  retreat  could  not  longer  be  de- 
layed.   At  the  signal,  the  Hurons  qprang 


76 


P£R£   J£AN5 


back  from  tree  to  tree,  securing  cover  as 
they  retired,  and,  battling  thus  each  foot 
of  ground,  they  made  the  advance  of  the 
Mohawks  slow  and  cautious. 

Ahasistari  approached  a  well  tried  war- 
rior and  whispered  a  command  in  his  ear 
--the  I»dian  hurried  to  the  rear  and  turned 
towards  the  river.  A  moment  after,  a 
little  below  the  landing,  along  the  shore 
where  the  rippling  waves  broke  in  a  line 
of  light  upon  the  sands,  a  dark  form 
seemed  to  rest  for  a  moment  prostrate 
upon  the  grass,  then  with  a  quiet  motion 
foiled  -slowly  down  the  slope  to  the  river's 
bank,  and,  witho»  a  single  splash,  disap- 
peared beneath  the  water's  edge^  An 
upturned  canoe  was  floating  by  the  spot : 
imperceptibly  its  motion  appeared  to 
quicken,  and  when  it  had  gained  some 
distance  from  the  shore,  it  was  suddenly 
righted  and  an  Indian  carefully  crept  over 
the  side.  A  yell  broke  from  the  forest 
proving  that  he  was  discovered,  and  a  few 


iHiiii 


■'r^-:u:  '-^  TT-tv 


OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 


77 


shots  whistled  around  him :  but  seizing  a 
paddle^  which  had  been  fastened  in  the 
canoe^  he  whirled  it  in  defiance  at  the  foe^ 
and  then  urged  his  bark  down  the  river. 

At  length  time  enough  had  elapsed  for 
Father  Laval  to  gather  a  sufficient  start, 
and  Ahasistari  and  his  Hurons  betook 
themselves  to  flight,  having  selected  the 
spot  opposite  their  last  bivouac  as  the 
final  place  of  rendezvous  for  those  who 
might  escape.  The  main  band  shaped 
their  course  somewhat  from  the  river, 
while  Ahasistari,  accompanied  by  a  single 
warrior,  hastened  to  the  spot  to  which  he 
had  directed  the  Jesuit  to  proceed.     ^-nM 

Father  Laval  had  turned  awav  from  the 
scene  of  strife,  and  was  hurrying  down 
the  shore,  when  he  heard  the  groan  of  a 
wounded  Indian  whose  strength  had  failed 
him  as  he  crept  towards  the  river  bank. 
He  paused.  How  could  he  fly  ?  How 
leave  behind  him  so  many  souls  to  whom 
his  ministry  was  necessary  ?   He  turned 


-3'  • 


78 


PERE   JEAN, 


from  his  path,  he  knelt  by  the  side  of  the 
Huron,  and  he  left  him  not  till  the  shout 
of  the  pursuers,  driving  deeper  into  the 
forest,  became  faint  upon  his  ear.  At 
length  he  arose,  and  heedless  of  the  words 
of  the  chief,  retraced  his  steps  to  the  now 
silent  scene  of  battle.  Many  a  time  he 
knelt  and  shrived  the  dying  Christian  war- 
rior, or  baptized  the  departing  neophyte, 
and  uttered  words  of  hope  to  the  wild 
savage.  Kindly  and  gently,  and  with 
almost  a  woman's  touch,  he  laved  the 
parched  lips  and  throbbing  brow  of  the 
wounded  and  soothed  their  pains.  Ab- 
sorbed in  this  work  of  holy  love,  he  heard 
not  the  approaching  steps  of  a  form  that 
soon  gained  his  side.  >  , 

*^0h,  my  father,  I  came  to  seek  thy 

body — and,  joy,  I  find  thee  safe!" 

^*  Ah!  Rene,  my  son!  heaven  bless  thee," 

said  the  Jesuit  as  he  gazed  afiectionately 

upon  the  youth.    "  I  believed  thee  dead 


MMMMM 


OR   THE   MISSJOKARY. 


79 


— see^  I  found  thy  cap  upon  the  field. 
I  mourned  for  thee^  my  son." 
,  '*  Yes,  I  lost  it  in  my  rapid  flight.  The 
young  Indian  Watook  hurried  me  to  the  . 
shore,  and  led  me  to  the  rear.  There,  in 
safety,  I  watched  the  progress  of  the  fight^, 
until  it  became  necessary  for  me  to  fly 
deeper  into  the  woods.  Making  a  detour 
as  the  foe  went  off  in  pursuit,  I  came 
hither  to  seek  thee." 

"  It  is  well :  we  will  die  together,  com- 
forting each  other."  ^ 

'*  If  it  be  the  will  of  Providence,  my 
father."  And  thr>  Jesuit  and  the  novice 
betook  themselves  to  their  office  of  love. 

A  young  Iroquois  warrior,  wounded 
severely,  but  not  fatally,  had  fainted  from 
loss  of  blood.  He  now  began  to  revive } 
and  an  involuntary  groan  broke  from  his 
lips.  Rene  Bourdoise  raised  his  head 
from  the  ground,  whilst  the  Jesuit  endeay- 
ored  to  staunch  the  wound.  The  effu- 
sion had  been  greai,  and  if  it  continued 


80 


PERE   JEAN, 


longer  would  prove  fatal.  No  mean  sur- 
geon was  Father  Jean,  and  he  worked 
with  a  charitable  heart.  Whilst  the  two 
Frenchmen  were  thus  engaged,  the  loud 
shouts  of  the  returning  Mohawks  broke 
upon  their  ears.  The  savages  had  ob- 
served the  escape  of  the  Huron  in  the 
canoe,  and,  fearing  that  succor  might  be 
near,  dared  not  protract  the  pursuit  too 
Jong.  Redoubled  yells  of  joy  came  forth 
as  they  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  two  most 
highly  prized  of  their  foes,  whose  escape 
they  had  feared.  Bounding  forward,  two 
warriors  were  about  to  grapple  with  them  5 
they  came  with  uplifted  arms,  but  the 
Jesuits,  unmoved,  continued  to  perform 
their  charitable  labors.  Father  Jean  had 
just  succeeded  in  staunching  the  flow  of 
blood,  and  was  smoothing  down  the  band- 
age that  compressed  the  wound  ^  Rene 
Bourdoise  laved  the  brow  of  the  Iro- 
quois.^ 
The  two  warriors  stood  still,  astonished. 


*fli*^><'-«.j*5(M;,*K'i 


OR    THE    MISSIONARY. 


81 


and  then^  uttering  the  deep,  low  guttural 
exclamation  peculiar  to  their  race,  their 
only  expression  of  surprise,  dropped  their 
arms,  and,  turning,  gazed  on  one  another 
in  unmingled  wonder.  They  were  soon 
joined  by  their  companions,  who  gathered 
near  by  this  scene  so  new  to  them,  and 
the  same  low  exclamation  ran  around  the 
group.  In  sooth  it  was  an  unwonted 
contrast:  man  the  fiend,  and  man  the 
angel — the  warrior,  red  with  blood,  smok- 
ing with  slaughter,  and  the  priest,  cairn 
and  passionless,  breathing  peace  and  char- 
ity to  all  men,  binding  up  the  wounds  of 
his  enemy.  Father  Jean  arose,  with  his 
arms  crossed  upon  his  breast,  his  benign 
features  glowing  with  a  holy  enthusiasm. 
The  priest  and  the  savage  stood  face  to 
face.  The  dark  flashing  orb  of  the  war- 
rior slowly  yielded  to  the  softening  in- 
fluence of  the  mild  and  gentle  eye  of  the 
Jesuit;  suddenly  he  turned  away  his 
glance,  and  approached  the  wounded  man. 


82 


P£RE   JEANj 


he  laid  his  hand  upon  his  brow^  as  if 
to  discover  that  there  was  no  deception. 
Then  he  coldly  watched  the  face  of  the 
sufferer.  The  novice  still  supported  bis 
head,  and  laved  his  brow  and  lips.  In  a 
moment  more  the  wounded  man  opened 
his  eyes  and  a  faint  smile  played  across 
his  features. 

^  *^Good,  Kiskepila!^^  muttered  the  Mo- 
hawk chief,  and  turned  away. 

Father  Jean  had  now  time  to  look  about 
him,  for  he  was  left  unmolested.  The 
Mohawks  had  made  several  prisoners  in 
tie  pursuit,  whom,  six  in  number,  some 
of  the  conquerors  had  just  dragged  up, 
bound  tightly  and  securely.  In  an  hour 
more  the  last  straggling  pursuer  had  re- 
turned, the  dying  Hurons  had  been  scalped 
and  tomanawked,  the  bodies  of  the  fallen 
Iroquois  buried,  and  the  conquerors  and 
their  prisoners,  marching  in  single  file 
and  with  a  party  in  advance,  bearing  their 
wounded  upon  litters  made  of  boughs. 


OR   THE    MISSIONARY. 


63 


left  the  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence  where 
they  had  concealed  their  canoes^  and  struck 
off  deep  into  the  forest,  towards  the  Mo- 
hawk villages. 


Mo- 


4^- 


%i  ■  »-4 


'*,/! 


"  --M 


The  Mom.       «♦ 

HE  sun  came  up  over  the  eastern 
hills,  brightly  and  beautifully,  not 
a  cloud  across  his  path.  His  first  slanting 
beams  fell  upon  the  form  of  a  tall  warrior, 
stealing  his  way  down  the  banks  of  the 
St.  Lawrence;  a  short  distance  behind 
came  another,  cautiously  covering,  and 
concealing  every  footstep  as  he  passed, 
while  to  the  south,  deep  in  the  forest, 
might  be  heard  the  sounds  of  conflict  and 
pursuit.  Rapidly  they  hurried  on,  yet 
carefully,  until  at  length  the  underwood 
became  thick  and  heavy,  and  difficult  to 
penetrate,  and  the  ground  soft  and  swampy. 


FERE   JEAN. 


85 


i 


Then,  emerging  from  the  wood,  they  kept 
along  by  the  edge  of  the  water,  searching 
closely  for  the  marks  of  footsteps  upon  the 
sand  or  clay.  The  examination  was  in 
vain.  For  a  moment  the  tall  warrior 
looked  about  in  doubt;  then,  renewing 
the  scrutiny,  proceeded  down  the  river. 
But  he  met  with  no  better  success.  An 
unusual  expression  of  pain  passed  across 
his  features,  and,  resting  the  butt  of  his 
gun  upon  the  ground,  he  leaned  upon  it 
in  thought.  His  dress  was  torn  and 
bloody,  and  the  marks  of  many  wounds 
were  upon  him.  The  sun  played  brightly 
across  the  face  of  Ahasistari,  but  his  spirit 
was  dark  and  sad.  He  had  found  no  trace 
of  Father  Laval.  His  solemn  vow  was 
in  his  memory.  -  ; 

At  length  twice  he  whistled,  low,  but 
piercingly ;  at  the  second  time  a  rustling 
was  heard  a  short  distance  down  the  bank 
where  the  bushes  overhung  the  water,  and 
lifting  carefully  aside  the  leafy  branches. 


f 


m. 


' 


s 


86 


PERE   JEAN, 


a  Huron  appeared^  urging  his  canoe  from 
his  hiding  place.  A  few  strokes  sent  the 
light  bark  to  the  feet  of  Ahasistari,  and 
the  rower  stood  beside  him.  The  three 
Indians  spoke  together  for  a  moment^ 
and  then  sat  down  silently  upon  the  shore. 
A  slight  noise  startled  them,  and  Ahasis- 
tari  exclaimed^  "  He  comes  V^  In  a  mo- 
ment more  a  step  was  heard  upon  the 
sand,  and  Watook,  soiled  and  stained  with 
the  marks  of  battle^  stood  before  them. 
He  looked  Ahasistari  in  the  face,  and 
then  his  head  sank  down  upon  his  breast 
in  silence.  The  chief  addressed  him : 
%***  Speak,  Huron  !^'  -^  - 

Raising  his  hand  towards  the  south, 
while  his  eyes  glowed  like  burning  coals, 
the  young  brave  exclaimed :  "  The  Hawk 
carries  off  the  dove ;  the  Mohawks  lead 
away  the  father  of  the  black  gown  and 
the  young  Frenchman  to  their  villages^  to 

the  torture:  and  Watook*^ and  his 

•trained  arms  pressed  tightly  against  his 


OR  THE   MISSIOffAKir. 


87 


bosom^  as  if  to  keep  down  its  inward 
struggle — "  Watook  looked  upon  it." 

Ahasistari  sat  motionless  for  a  moment, 
then  looked  fixedly  at  the  young  Indian, 
his  eye  seemi  j  pierce  into  the  depths 
of  his  soul.     ':  luscle  moved ;  not  a 

nerve  quivereu ;  but  there  was  a  sorrow- 
ful sternness  in  his  glance.  Then  he 
gazed  around  upon  the  group  of  Hu- 
rons: 

"  How  many  Iroquois  ?  The  days  are 
many  before  the  villages  can  be  reached — 
and  night  and  day — "  and  he  grasped  his 
knife  expressively.  A  deep  exclamation 
of  approval  broke  from  his  two  compan- 
ions. Watook  replied  not,  but  pointed  to 
the  sands  of  the  shore,  and  then  to  the 
leaves  of  the  forest. 

*^  It  is  useless,'^  said  the  chief,  and  sank 
again  into  silence.  At  length,  raising 
himself  up  to  his  full  height,  he  said :  '^I 
have  sworn,  my  brothers !  you  are  bound 
by  no  vow.    Go!  the  waters  are  open 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1^1^    |2j5 
2.0 


HI 
HI 
u 


14.0 


ri   i^iii4iy4 

^ 

6" 

-► 

HiolDgraiiiic 

Sciences 
CorpQralion 


23  WKT  MAIN  STRfeT 

WIBSTn,N.Y.  USSO 

(716)17!/  IS03 


^ 


s> 


V 


c> 


88 


PEHB   J&AN9 


to  duebec.  Ahasistari  will  join  his  fa- 
ther of  the  black  gown^  and  share  his 
fnfp  '' 


:.:'A"'ni  ■^> 


'Ji^H  ,- 


f',H-T 


The  Hurons  drew  back  from  the  shore 
to  the  side  of  their  chiefs  and  stood  im- 
movable. A  gleam  of  hope  broke  upon 
the  mind  of  the  leader^  and^  pointing  to 
Watook^hesaid:  "Go!  sweep  down  the 
river  to  the  place  of  gathering ;  bring  up 
the  warriors  who  may  have  escaped,  and 
lead  them  upon  our  trail ;  we  will  rescue 
our  people,  or  perish  with  them." 

Watook's  heart  beat  high.  He  could 
bring  rescue  to  the  very  villages  of  the 
Mohawks,  and  save  the  novice  and  the 
priest.  He  stepped  lightly  into  the  canoe, 
and,  with  a  few  strokes,  sent  it  far  into 
the  current.  Then  waving  his  hand  to 
the  three  Hurons  who  stood  silently 
gazing  after  him,  he  steered  his  course 
directly  down  the  river.  i,i»,^^^^^^  v»' 
:  "  Watook  hath  a  bold  young  heart ;  he 
wiU  lead  the  braves  of  the  Hurons  when 


OR  THS    MJSSIOKART. 


89 


the  arm  of  Ahasistari  is  cold/'  said  the 
chief;  and  the  three  devoted  warriors 
turned  away  upon  the  trail  of  the 
enemy. 


•  •  •  • 


The  Iroquois  marched  silently  on 
through  the  pathless  forest,  striking  di- 
rectly for  their  villages^  guided  only  by 
that  wonderful  instinct  which  enables  an 
Indian  to  toil  on^  day  and  nighty  over  bill 
and  valley,  through  forest,  and  thicket, 
and  swamp,  as  unerringly  as  if  directed 
by  the  compass.  The  prisoners  were 
placed  in  the  centre  of  the  line,  and  so 
guarded  that  escape  was  impossible.  The 
two  Frenchmen,  like  the  Hurons,  were 
bound  tightly  with  thongs  of  deer  skin, 
but,  in  the  midst  of  their  sufferings,  they 
enjoyed  the  happy  privilege  of  being 
together.  ■.ji.-^-;;.../.-.^  i.r:^- 

The  hour  of  noon  had  come ;  the  heat 
was  oppressive  even  in  the  shaded  forest, 
and  the  thick  black  dresses  of  the  Jesuit 
and  the  novice  increased  the  sufferings  of 


}  ,< 


^ 


90 


PERE  JEAN^ 


their  painful  march.  At  length  the  party- 
paused  to  refresh  themselves. 

"  Rene^  my  son/^  sqtid  Father  Laval, 
"  let  us  oflfer  up  the  last  part  of  the  rosary. 
It  is  the  five  dolors.  Th^  recollections  it 
contains  will  console  us  in  our  sufferings. 
In  our  misfortunes  we  must  pray  to  God 
to  assist  us  with  his  heavenly  consolations^ 
and  to  enaUe  us  to  endure  them  with  pa- 
tience. Let  us  offer  them  up  as  an  atone- 
ment through  the  blood  of  Christ  for  our 
pastofiences."       '^ 

.-^The  novice  acquiesced  in  silence,  and 
the  priest  began  the  prayers.  For  a  mo- 
ment their  captors  did  not  heed  tb  onver- 
sation  of  the  prisoners.  Fathei  Laval 
proceeded,  and  Rene  Bouidoise  said  the 
responses.  Hitherto  the  captive  Hurons 
had  maintained  a  stern  and  dogged  silence, 
permitting  no  sign  of  pain  to  escape  them, 
and  enduring,  passively  and  with  native 
stoicism,  all  the  insults  of  the  Mohawks. 
But  the  sound  of  the  first  *^  Ave  Maria,'^  in 


'■ 


OR  THE   MISSIONARY. 


91 


the  party 

er  Laval, 
le  rosary, 
lections  it 
ufierings. 
ly  to  God 
isolations^ 
with  pa- 
an  atone- 
st  for  our 

ence^  and 
?or  a  mo- 
onver- 
ei  Laval 
said  the 
e  Hurons 
id  silence^ 
ape  them^ 
th  native 
ilohawks. 
laria,'^  in 


the  clear  voice  of  the  Jesuit,  came  like 
sweet  music  to  their  sullen  hearts,  soften- 
ing their  savage  humor,  and  soothing  them 
into  love  and  prayer.  Gently  its  holy  influ- 
ence spread  among  the  group  of  sufferers, 
and  their  stern  features  became  first  sad, 
then  calm  and  placid,  until  the  light  of  re- 
ligious aspiration  beamed  from  many  a 
scarred  face  turned  mildly  up  to  heaven. 
The  response  came  low  and  broken  from 
the  lips  of  the  young  novice,  swelling  up, 
like  a  sweeping  wave,  as  one  by  one  the 
deep  musical  tones  of  the  captive  Hurons 
joined  it.  ^\Ave  Maria  /'^  it  came  like  the 
though^of  a  loving  mother,  like  the  mem- 
ory of  a  holy  love,  ndve  Maria !  swelling 
up,  in  the  wild  forest,  from  captive  hearts, 
from  parched  and  feverish  lips,  calmed  by 
its  gentle  murmurs,  to  the  mother  of 
the  sorrowful,  the  mourning.  Ave !  like 
dew  to  the  withering  flower,  was  the  sweet 
prayer  to  the  stricken  soul,  and  tears  came 
down  the  swarthy  cheeks  of  the  Christian 
warriors. 


\  -I 


92 


i  I 


PER£   JEAN. 


Amazed^  the  Mohawks  looked  upon  the 
scene;  then  they  laughed  aloud  contempt- 
uously  at  the  faint-hearted  braves  who 
wept — wept  in  captivity. 

"  Dogs !  women  !^^  they  said,  *'  are  the 
Hurons  no  warriors  ?  Shall  we  go  back 
to  their  tribes  to  carry  off  a  brave  to  tor- 
ture? Ye  are  women!  our  squaws  will 
beat  you  with  whips !  Ye  are  not  worthy 
of  a  warrior's  death. '^ 

But  the  Christian  Hurons  prayed  on — 
Sancta  Maria! — their  full,  deep  voices 
piercing  up  to  heaven,  heedless  of  the 
:8corn  and  taunts  and  blows  of  their  cap- 
ers. At  length  a  Mohawk  approached 
the  Jesuit 

"  Does  the  word  of  the  medicine  turn 
the  Huron  warriors  to  women  ?  He  is  a 
magician — ^lethim  he  silent,"  and  he  struck 
him  a  blow  in  the  face  with  his  clenched 
hand.  The  blood  gushed  from  the  lips  of 
the  priest,  and  he  bowed  his  head  in 
silence.  •  .  .  •  •  •■f--i '  ■  ..."-.:.;  •,■:'  ■  -vrv**-''*>. » 


OR   THfi    MISSIONARY. 


93 


In  the  forest  from  a  thicket  three  figures^ 
crouching  low,  glared  fiercely  out  upon  the 
scene ;  over  the  dark  features  of  the  chief 
of  these  flashed  the  fire  of  anger ;  his  nos- 
trils were  dilated,  his  lips  parted,  his  hand 
grasped  his  carabine  convulsively.  Then, 
as  the  priest  bowed  meekly  to  the  blow, 
the  warrior  released  his  weapon  and 
pressed  his  hands  upon  his  brow  as  if  to 
shut  out  the  scene;  a  low  sigh  escaped 
him,  and  he  too  knelt  and  prayed.  But  for 
the  meek  bearing  of  the  priest,  recalling 
the  duty  of  the  Christian  to  the  heart  of 
the  chief,  there  surely  had  l^en  death 
among  the  conquerors  in  that  instant. 
Ahasistari  knelt  and  prayed.  The  time 
for  action  had  not  yet  come  :  it  was  not 
vengeance  but  deliverance  that  he  sought. 

The  Jesuit  bowed  meekly  to  the  blow ; 
then  raising  his  eyes  up  to  heaven,  whi]^ 
his  arms  were  drawn  back  by  the  tight 
thong  around  his  wrists,  he  prayed  on  in 
silence.    In  silence  prayed  the  captives-* 


94 


P£R£   JEAN, 


but  the  still  incense  of  their  hearts  floated 
upwards  not  less  sweetly  to  the  throne 
of  God.  It  was  the  dedication  of  the 
forests  of  the  Iroquois  to  the  faith  of 
Christ.  V 

The  Mohawks  soon  made  their  repast, 
and  snatched  a  few  moments  of  repose. 
The  wretched  remains  of  their  dinner  were 
thrown  to  the  captives,  whose  hunger  was 
left  unsatisfied,  while,  from  the  tightness 
of  their  bands,  they  were  unable  to  enjoy 
the  momentary  rest  afforded  by  the  halt. 
The  line  of  march  was  soon  formed  again, 
and  the  Mohawks,  refreshed  by  their  re- 
pose, hurried  on  the  tired  captives  at  a 
rapid  pace,  urging  the  weary  and  the 
lagging  with  heavy  blows.  Many  hours 
passed  thus.  ^ 

Rene  Bourdoise  was  faint  and  weary, 
and  his  faltering  step  betokened  that  with- 
out rest  his  strength  would  soon  give  out. 
In  that  case  a  certain  death  awaited  him ; 
for  the  captors  would  not  pause  or  delay 


^ 


OR  THfi    MISSIONARY. 


95 


when  a  blow  of  the  tomahawk  could,  in  a 
moment,  relieve  them  of  their  trouble.  ^%J 
A  Mohawk  warrior,    perceiving   hii 
weariness,  approached  him,  and,  bran- 
dishing his  weapon  over  his  head,  pointed 
forward  to  the  route  they  were  pursuing, 
and  intimated,  by  a  significant  gesture,  his 
fate  in  case  he  should  be  unable  to  keep  up 
with  the  party.    Thus  incited,  the  young 
novice  exerted  himself  anew,  and,  ever  and 
anon,  his  tormentor,  as  his  efforts  seemed 
to  fiag^  assumed  a  threatening  posture,  or 
struck  him  with  a  heavy  stick  which  he 
had  picked  up  on  the  march,  or  pricked 
him  forward  with  the  point  of  his  knife. 
The  folds  of  his  black  robe  were  stiff  with 
blood,  yet  the  fainting  novice  toiled  on 
patiently,  turning  up  his  eyes  to  heaven, 
and  murmuring  a  gentle  prayer  for  his  tor- 
mentors. Father  Laval,  stronger  and  more 
accustomed  to  fatigue,  looked  in  helpless 
agony  upon  the  suffering  of  his  young 
companion ;  he  cheered  him  onward  with 


;&.',    '■  ■ 


96 


PCR£  J£AN^ 


worda  of  hope^  and  then^  as  the  cruelty  of 
the  savage  increased^  he  consoled  him  with 
thoughts  of  holy  comfort. 

**  Bear  up,  my  son.  Thou  art  the  sol- 
dier of  Jesus.  Thou  art  scourged — ht  was 
scourged.  It  is  a  glorious  privilege  to  die 
in  his  service ;  heaven  is  the  reward  of  the 
happy  martyr.^' 

?  *^Pray  for  me,  father,  pray  for  me. 
Oh  Gtod !''  continued  the  youthful  novice, 
looking  sadly  up  to  heaven,  **  Oh  God ! 
grant  me  strength  to  endure  this  trial ; 
grant  me  fortitude  I"  ' 
^  The  road  became  more  difficult  and  the 
progress  more  painful.  A  powerful  Hu- 
ron marched  near  the  delicate  young 
Frenchman ;  no  word  had  yet  escaped  his 
lips.  At  length  he  approached  the  suffer- 
er, and,  pressing  his  huge  shoulder  against 
him,  said : 


^.f-M* -'s,    >*^V;«i(f':?'-''^ 


^  ^' Lean  on  me,  my  brotlier  !**    '  ' 

At  the  same  moment  Kiohba,  the  re- 
lentless Mohawk,  again  pricked  the  bleed- 


f 


OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 


S7 


ing  noTice  with  his  knife.  The  youth 
started  forward^  and,  with  a  deep  groan, 
fell  to  the  gr9und.  There  he  lay  unable  to 
rise.  The  Irdquois  grasped  his  tomahawk 
with  a  savage  exclamation,  and  raised  it 
over  his  head  to  strike  the  exhausted  cap- 
tive. It  was  a  moment  of  agony.  The 
tall  Huron  sprang  forward ;  with  a  mighty 
effort  he  burst  the  cords  that  bound  his 
wrists,  and  rushed  between  the  Iroquois 
and  his  victim.  On  his  left  arm  he  caught 
the  descending  blow,  which  gashed  deep 
into  his  brawny  muscles ;  with  his  right 
he  lifted  up  the  light  form  of  the  novice, 
and,  folding  it  to  his  powerful  chest,  while 
the  pale  face  of  the  insensible  youth  rested 
gently  on  his  dark  red  shoulder,  strode 
sternly  forward  to  the  front  of  the  group 
of  captives.  Deep  exclamations  of  satis- 
faction escaped  the  Iroquois ;  but  no  one 
attempted  to  interrupt  the  warrior,  for  the 
Indian  loves  a  bold  deed.  »v.i  k  iy^* ,  vii^^^^jK 
"  He  is  brave,"  said  one  j "  he  is  worthy 
of  the  stake." 


m 


P£R£   JfiAN^ 


"  Yes,  he  is  a  warrior ;  he  shall  die  by 


r»r  ♦> 


fc.  .  .)!♦■  I  I'i       (    .  '1'«  r  ^  • 


the  torture!'^ 

The  Huron  strode  on  with  his  helpless 
burden,  as  tenderly  and  gently  guarding 
it  as  a  father  does  the  child  he  loves.  "  *- 
<*  *'  Le  Loup  will  bear  his  young  white 
brother,''  he  exclaimed.         *    >.  : .     .  -  ^  i 

Tears  flowed  down  the  cheeks  of  the 
Jesuit,  and  he  raised  his  heart  to  heaven 
in  thankfulness  for  the  providential  rescue 
of  his  companion. 

At  the  same  instant  the  cry  of  a  hawk 
was  heard  in  the  forest,  repeated  thrice 
clearly  and  shrilly,  then  seeming  to  die 
away  in  the  distance — a  gleam  of  joy 
broke  out  on  the  bronzed  face  of  the  Hu- 
ron, and  with  a  firmer  and  lighter  step  Le 
Loup  pressed  onward.  He  knew  by  the 
signal  that  his  chief  was  upon  their  trail, 
and  that  three  of  his  tribe  were  near. 
The  Iroquois  listened  suspiciously  to  the 
sound,  but  it  was  repeated  no  more.  .^  I 

The  sun  was  sinking  low  in  the  west. 


■'■^-"- 


OR   TH£    MISSIONARY. 


99 


The  shades  of  the  hills  grew  out  length- 
ening. On  the  bosom  of  the  river  the  red 
light  fell  in  streams^  sparkling  from  the 
summits  of  the  little  waves.  Far  down 
its  waters^  many  a  weary  mile,  a  war 
canoe,  urged  on  by  a  single  Indian,  made 
its  way.  Large  drops  of  sweat  stood  upon 
the  rower's  brow.  A  moment  he  paused 
and  gazed  upon  the  setting  sun,  then, 
shaking  Lift  clenched  hand  towards  the 
far  south-west,  bent  sternly  to  his  oar  once 
more.  • 

At  length  he  turned  the  bow  of  his 
canoe  towards  the  shore  3  he  reached  it, 
and  bounded  on  the  beach.  Then  draw- 
ing his  bark  upon  the  sand,  he  stepped 
into  the  forest  with  his  tomahawk  in  his 
hand ,  *«s  tf dT  h^^^  u  1q*  *^dihln^ :  t*h8  •  Irees 
some  distance  fr9mnhelv£(tef,:9(i8;£i^d>' 
ing  Qb'mtfrki^  t|n*tl^fem,  natchedtSev^ira^  in^ 
a  pecu^i^P  t^siii^f •  *Ki^*1\e:we^t  fc^it&f'T 
in,  a  figure  stepped  fronii'beliind  'a  latg'd 
oak  which  had  hitherto  concealed  him^ 


100 


P£RE   JEAIC, 


and,  approaching  the  cauoe,  inspected  it 
carefully 5  and  afterwards  bent  over  the 
footsteps  of  the  young  Indian.  The  per- 
son was  dressed  in  a  hunting  shirt  gathered 
close  around  his  waist  by  a  leathern  belt, 
which  also  served  to  support  a  long  curved 
knife  and  a  small  steel  axe.  A  large  pow- 
der horn  and  a  ball  pouch  of  deer  skin 
were  slung  over  his  shoulder;  his  feet 
and  legs  were  protected  by  moccasins  and 
leggins  of  untanned  skin,  and  his  equip- 
ments were  completed  by  a  small  black 
hair  cap  set  jauntily  on  his  head.  He 
seemed  satisfied  with  the  result  of  his  ex- 
amination, and  said  half  aloud  as  he  arose : 
*^  Huron  canoe — Huron  moccasin — no 
Mohawk  thief — and  now  Pierre  for  Mons. 


'•f      *  .*L    • 


f .-.» 


:  Pierre  \i^  em^rajted fj^kti  l^ra/iee  many 
years  beforie,  wA  with,  the  'aid  T>f  'his  son 
hafl'iiiade>  hims^JP  insoful-  as*  ^^ burner  to 
th^  smaller  outposts  of  the  French.  He 
supplied  them  with  game.   In  one  of  their 


ex 

thf 
kil 
He 


OR   TH£   MISSIONARY. 


101 


excursions  the  Mohawks  came  upon 
them^  and  after  a  long  chase  succeeded  in 
killing  and  scalping  the  young  man* 
Henceforth  Pierre  considered  the  Mo- 
hawks as  his  deadliest  enemies.  He  had 
served  as  a  spy  under  the  great  Cham- 
plain — a  man  dreaded  by  the  Indians  of 
every  tribe^  and  whose  name  had  become 
a  war-cry  to  the  French.  Pierre  was  an 
expert  woodsman^  and  an  indefatigable 
Indian  fighter — well  known  and  loved  by 
the  Hurons^  who  gave  him  the  soubriquet 
of  ^'  UEspkn  hardV^ 

The  Frenchman  laughed  as  he  entered 
the  forest  to  meet  the  Indian.  ^'  Ho^  ho, 
Huron,"  he  shouted  as  he  strode  care- 
lessly along.  Watook  heard  the  voice, 
and  springing  to  a  trce^  cast  his  rifle  into 
rest  I  but  the  dress  and  ]a<3guage  of  the 
speaker  told  him  it  was  a  friend,  and  he 
came  leaping  towards  him. 

''Ugh!  L'Espion  hardil  The  pale 
face  is  the  friend  of  the  Huron,"  he  said* 

*'  Very  true,  savage,  very  true." 


102 


PERfi   JEAN^ 


"  Has  the  Frenchman  found  any  Hu- 
rons  here?"  and  he  waved  his  hand 
around. 

"  None  but  yourself,  Huron." 

Then  Watook  told  him  of  the  sad  mis- 
fortune which  had  befallen  his  party,  and 
of  the  capture  of  the  two  Frenchmen,  and 
how  he  had  come  thither  to  gather  the 
scattered  Hurons  and  attempt  a  rescue. 
Exclamations  of  anger  escaped  the  hunter 
as  he  listened  to  the  story,  and  his  manner 
became  more  grave. 

"  The  scalp  of  the  son  of  the  Daring 
Scout  hangs  in  the  Mohawk  lodge.  Is  his 
knife  rusty  ?  Will  he  strike  the  trail  of  the 
Iroquois?"  said  the  Indian  in  conclusion. 

Pierre  drew  the  weapon  from  his  belt 
and  ran  his  finger  across  its  glittering 
blade — and  his  feeling  deepened  into  fury 
as  he  remembered  the  sad  day  in  which 
his  son  had  perished.  .. 

*  "  Huron,"  he  said  at  length  in  a  stern 
voice,  "Huron!    *  Daring  Scout'  will 


OR   THE      lISSIONARY. 


103 


Strike  the  Mohawk  in  his  village ;''  then, 
recovering  his  wonted  equanimity,  con- 
tinued: i^^^ 

"  The  braves  probably  went  deep  into 
the  forest  before  they  struck  off  towards 
the  rendezvous — they  will  be  here  yet— 
for  the  current  of  the  river  assisted  you 
forward  ahead  of  them;  it  is  rapid  now. 
Let  us  build  a  fire,  and  pass  the  night 
here.  No  Mohawks  are  outlying  now; 
for  the  party  you  fell  in  with  must  have 
been  a  strong  one,  and  it  is  not  likely  that 
there  is  another  out.  When  the  Hurons 
come  in,  we  can  strike  off*  through  the^ 
forest  to  the  trail  of  your  chief.'' 

The  counsel  seemed  wise  to  the  Indian, 
and  they  prepared  to  bivouac  upon  the 
spot.  About  midnight  the  sound  of  a 
footstep  struck  upon  the  ear  of  the  French- 
man, who  kept  watch,  sitting  at  the  foot 
of  a  tree  shaded  from  the  light  of  the  fire. 

"dui  va  la,"  said  the  hunter,  who 
still  adhered  somewhat  to  his  old  military 


'-'._.  l^^ufl: 


104 


P£R£  J£AIC. 


habits :  '^  dui  va  la;''  but  the  figure  ap- 
proached, and  the  next  moment  a  If  uron 
stalked  up  to  the  fire.  Watook  awoke, 
and  greeted  his  comrade.  ^  ?w. 

*^  The  Hurons  are  scattered,  andwill 
come  in  slowly,  for  they  are  very  weary," 
said  the  stranger.  He  made  no  other 
allusion  to  their  late  defeat,     -i.  v 

When  morning  dawned  four  or  fire 
warriors  had  collected,  and  the  impatient 
Watook  proposed  to  set  out.   -,      .,,,m  %, 

^'  No,''  said  the  Huron,  who  had  first 
come  in,  '^more  braves  come — more 
braves.",^^  ,.^  :y...^.>.^.. 
•  ''They  are  already  two  days'  march 
before  us,"  said  Watook;  but  Pierre  coin- 
cided with  the  first.  By  the  hour  of  noon 
about  fifteen  warriors  had  assembled, 
some  of  them  wounded,  and  all  wearied. 
Compelled  by  stern  necessity,  that  night 
they  passed  at  the  place  of  rendezvous, 
ind  Old  the  following  morn  set  out, 
through  the  forest,  to  strike  on  the  trail 
of  the  Iroquois.  .  •  .  .       "^ 


r  VIC  •    r  "'^i"-^  ■ 


'.-"■■..-rf';.',::.i,v'^  Y- 


OR  THE  MISSIONARY. 


il05 


Night  and  morn  came  and  went,  night 
and  morn  the  captors  and  their  captives 
toiled  on  through  the  pathless  forest.  Still 
on — on  went  the  weary  march ;  still  on 
the  rear  of  the  conquering  Mohawks 
hovered  three  dusky  forms — sterna  silent, 
watchful 


Vi-*';:  i 


^*.-,f».  •.■^*r^ .«..., -^        ^  >'.-m'«'-»  •■J^'■«■■•v:-»<•^^H*^t^•. 


in    : 


£Iv 


»TmMm^mM.r:^)M  m^u 


\j}^m.im^/i  Jmi>  tip^»  mi4^i  H'm^U^i^^^.-'-: 
-■■■■■  ^'''':    '^-n^'hrn  'm^m-.^  '.M'wm..hm 

''  '      ■><^  -v ' -^^'"^^ 


i^ 


i$ 


^0 


TAe  jRe{t/m» 


lORNING  Flower,  why  art  thou 
s^d'l  the  young  eagle  of  his  tribe 
Will  soon  return.  Kiskiepila  will  bring 
back  the  scalps  of  Huron  warriors  at  his 
l^irdle :  he  will  come  back  adorned  with 
^agle  feathers,  and  the  women  of  his  tribe 
will  sing  his  deeds.  He  will  bring  home 
many  spoils,  and  will  take  the  budding 
Flower  of  morn  to  bloom  in  his  own 
bdge!"    ^        -       «r  4 

No,  Dancing  Fawn,  the  warriors  of 
[ibe  have  been  gone  many  days  on 
,path.    Many  suns  have  set  since 
^alfiNOtiilied  hour  of  return  passed  by^ 


ft 


i 


^ 


>  *g         -ma  -m  ' 


P£R£   JEAN. 


.  W      f  .    .■ ,  J. 


f  h(es  Ihoices  6^  ike  higtit  Kftte  wfiispcnreil 
in  the  eat  of  Morning  Flower.  Misfor- 
tune is  on  the  path  of  the  braves.  He 
will  return  no  more.'*  t^Jvt*- 
fe**  Drooping  Flower,"  said  the  other^ 
drawing  up  haughtily, ''  is  not  the  blood 
of  the  conquering  Iroquois  in  thy  veins  t 
and  yet  thou  tremblest  because  the  brate^ 
of  the  tribe  outlie  upon  the  war  path  a  fe# 
suns  longer  than  the  appointed  tinbf^ 
Thinkest  thou  that  the  Huron  dogs  cddid 
withstand  the  invincible  Mohawk t  The 
Hurons  are  cowards ;  they  have  forsaketi 
Owadeeyo  for  the  God  of  the  pale  face> 
and  Owaneeyo  has  chilled  their  heitrt^^ 
and  turned  their  blood  to  wat^h  ^htl 
Hitrons  are  dog^ !  '^  and  the  speaker  tossed 
her  hand  contemptuously  towards  the 
Burofk  country. -i^^  -^-^'  * ¥-^-^  j *  -'  *^^'  ' '  -  -  ^' 
^  She  was  a  noble  looking  lindiati  girl^ 
Her  bl^ck  eye  sparkled  as  she  spoke 
the  faeighttetied  color  oPher  ch<idt 
the  qtiitdk  fidissioti  of  the  untltlifadl  cUM 


v^ 


■)  * 


108 


P£R£  JEAN^ 


of  nature.  The  other  was  of  gen  tie  mood ; 
heir  fuU  and  liquid  eye  looked  out  BoMy 
from  beneath  the  long  and  sweeping  lash 
that  shaded  its  light.  Her  hair  was  jetty 
blacky  and,  though  straight,  was  finer  and 
softer  than  usual  in  the  Indian  race:  it 
was  braided  in  glossy  folds  around  her 
temples,  and  gathered  in  a  loop  behind, 
bound  up  wifh  bands  of  bright  colored 
bark  interwoven  with  beads.  Her  dress 
was  a  mantle  curiously  wrought  with 
gaily  colored  feathers,  and  trimmed  with 
tufts  of  elk  hair  dyed  red,  thrown  grace- 
fully around  her  form,  leaving  her  left 
arm'pind  shoulder  bare.  Her  limbs  were 
finely  ipoulded. :  '^•'^^^ ■•■;^#^'  '^¥i^-:'^--%hitn'ff*'''Pi'nw: 
Belomthe  maidens  stretched  a  scene  of 
great  beauiy.  From  two  hills^covered  with 
heavy  forest  trees,  an  open  sward  sloped 
gradually  till  they  blended  into  a  little 
iRab  traversed  by  a  small  stream,  on 
whole  bwks  a  group  of  children  were 
busily — now  plunging  into  the 


*  t 


%'■ 


% 


OR   THE   MISSIONART. 


109 


shallow  waters^  and  now  sunning  them- 
selves upon  the  soft  and  luxuriant  ifrass 
that  bordered  ft.  On  the  northenk  side^ 
where  the  descent  faeed  full  towards  the 
souths  was  ranged  a  number  of  Indian 
wigwanis^in  the  centre  of  which  stood  the 
council  lodge,  rising  conspicuous  above 
the  rest  of  the  village.  Before  the  doors 
of  some  of  the  cabins  groups  of  old  tHen 
and  children  were  gathered,  while  ttue 
squaws  were  passing  to  and  fro^  engaged 
in  their  domestic  labors.  At  the  edge  of 
the  forest  a  number  of  youths  were  prac- 
tising with  the  bow  and  arfow.  The 
western  portion  of  the  slope  was  filled^  witb 
young  corn,  green  and  luxuriant  in  its 
growth,  with  its  white  tassels  and  ears 
already  blooming  out.  On  the  southern 
bank  of  the  stream  swept  upwards  a  gen- 
tle ascent  of  beautiful  green  sward,  gaily 
interspersed  with  the  gloriously  tinted'WMd 
flowers  that  adorn  the  fields  of  Am^A. 
Around  this  little  valley,  like  a  palisade^ 


m,- 


110 


^t,,,FBBB  ajBAI*,       to 


Stood  jtbe  edge  of  the  forest,  its  inteiimaa- 
hle  deplbs  stretching  far  away  towards  the 
horiaoD,  uotil^  like  the  gre^n  waters  of  a 
vasi  ocean,  it9  waving  foliage  seemed  to 
mingle  with  the  distant  sky.  >  imf. 

The  two  Indian  maidens  reclined  upon 
the  soft  turf  at  the  edge  of  the  forest  above 
the  village^  and  for  a  few  moments  gazed 
down  in  sifence  upon  the  valley.  The 
thipk  foliage  of  a  massive  oak  overhung 
tbem»  and  shaded  them  from  the  warm 
rays  of  the  sun.  '^ 


'^wm<^ 


*<  Dancing  Fawn/'  at  length  resumed 
the  young  girl,  '^  the  French  warriors  are 
terrible  in  battle^  riding  fierce  horses,  and 
with  their  breasts  clad  in  steel ;  perchance 
the  bravt^s  have  fallen  in  with  them  and 
been  cut  off." 

/'False  Mohawk  girl^  have  not  the 
bmves  of  our  nation  met  the  French  in 
bi^ttle?  Their  war  cry  is  like  the  roar  of 
Ungbi^a'^-^the  Huron  and  the  pale  fuc^s 


OR   THi  MISAi^lfARY, 


lU 


tremble  at  its  sound.  But  listen^  Moraing 
Flower!  heard  you  that  faint  shout!  See! 
it  has  aroused  the  village !" 

The  young  maidens  arose  from  their 
recumbent  position^  and  awaited  in  ex- 
pectation the  event.  The  village  below 
them  now  exhibited  a  different  and  more 
lively  aspect.  The  youths  had  quitted 
their  pastime  and  gathered  *around  the 
council  lodge  where  the  old  men  of  the 
tribe  had  assembled.  The  women  had 
left  their  occupations,  and  were  clamor*- 
ously  joining  the  group.  At  length 
another  yell  broke  from  the  forest  far  to 
the  west,  and  came  faintly  swelling  to  the 
expectant  crowd. ,  In  a  few  moments 
more  a  runnier  emerged  from  the  forest, 
and,  loping  down  the  hill,  hurried  oa 
towards  the  village.  As  he  approached^ 
the  assemblage  opened  to  receive  him, 
and  he  paused  in  silence  before  the  chief, 
who  was  surrounded  by  a  group  0|f  vene- 
rable warriors.  Kiodego  motioned  hiid 
to  speak. 


112 


.T 


PERE  JEAK/ 


JtO 


"The  braves  of  the  Mohawks/'  said 
the  runner,  ^*  are  mighty  warriors ;  their 
arms  are  strong,  and  the Hurons  aredogs^ 
The  French  become  women  before  the 
battle-axes  of  the  Mohawks.  Thfe  war- 
riora  bring  back  scalps  and  many  prison- 
ers ;  they  have  captured  the  great  medi- 
cine of  the  French ;  they  have  routed  and 
slain  many  Hurons/'  Then  be  recounted 
the  names  of  the  wounded — for  of  the 
dead  the  Indian  speaks  not.  As  he  men- 
tioned the  name  of  Kiskepila,  the  son  of 
the  old  chief,  a  deep  sigh  broke  from  the 
lips  of  the  Morning  Flower,  and  her  head 
sank  for  a  moment  upon  her  breast.  Then' 
she  raised  it  up  proudly,  and  fierce  deter- 
mination lit  up  her  beautiful  features. 
Gloom  had  passed  away.  Klodego  s^t 
unmoved,  evincing  no  concern  for  the 
misfortune  of  his  son.  As  the  runner  fin^ 
ished  his  recital,  a  shout  broke  from  the^ 
assemblage  which  was  answered  from 
the  forest  by  a  succesf^ion  of  yells,  whose^^. 


OR  THE  MI88I01CARY. 


113 


increasing  tone  marked  the  near  approach 
of  the  conquerors ;  it  was  the  scalp  whoop. 
Then  came  another  succession  of  yells, 
one  for  each  prisoner.  At  this  signal  the 
crowd  v.tjm.^  the  councillodge  dispersed 
to  tho  d'fferent  wigwams^  but  soon  rea»- 
yecibled,  every  one  armed  with  weapons 
of  some  kind ;  Icnives^  tomahawks^  stones, 
and  war  clubs.  As  soon  as  the  runner 
appeared.  Morning  Flower  and  her  com- 
panion had  descended  and  mingled  with 
the  group  before  the  lodge,  and  now,  armed 
like  the  other  women  of  the  tribe,  they 
hurried  off  towards  the  edge  of  the  forest. 
It  would  have  been  difficult  to  recognise 
the  sorrowing,  lone,  lorn  Indian  maiden 
with  the  drooping  glance  in  the  exdited 
form  that  wound  amid  the  group,  urging 
on  her  sister  furies  to  greater  frenzy. 
,-*'  The  Qentle  Flower,"  she  said  to  Dan- 
cing Fawn,  '*  is  a  Mohawk  maiden ;  a 
thorn  has  pierced  through  her  liioccasiii 
and  wounded  her  foot.    She  iritt  pluck  it 


114 


►-♦iJhI-  »'■  ■-•  I.  T.V iT- «-T-<  .    -f  •»«■»  I     i  3  C' 


outj  and  with  it  tear  the  fieah  of  the 
I^renohi^ao.  The  Morning  Flower  will 
avenge  the  wound  of  Kiskepila  I''  #{* 
«,i!rhe  inhabitants  of  the  village  had  ar- 
ranged themselves  in  two  lines  on  the 
open  apace  south  of  the  little  rivulet^  for 
by  that  side  the  war  party,  having  made 
a  detour  in  the  forest^  were  to  enter  on  the 
valley.  Thus  the  lines  ran  from  the  south 
west  up  towards  the  village.  Old  women 
with  staves,  young  gentle  maidens  with 
heavy  clubs,  youths  with  knives  and  tom- 
ahawks, and  even  the  little  naked  chil- 
dren with,  sharp  stones,  stood  waiting, 
with  savage  exultation,  for  the  coming  of 
the  prisoners. 

The  triumphant  songs  of  the  returning 
warriors  became  every  moment  more  dis- 
tinct; at  length,  far  down  the  shaded 
avenues  of  the  forest,  the  front  of  the  body 
appeared  in  view.  A  cry  of  wild  joy 
bralce  f{pm  the  i  expectant  savages,  and 
the  two  Unes  waved  and  undulated  along 


OR   TpilllS^^CIJIARr. 


m 


their  whole  leDgth,  as  each  person  endea- 
vored to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  triumphant 
braves.  On  they  came! — the  warrior 
stepping  n^ore  firmly ^  and  erecting  his  head 
more  proudly^  as  he  beheld  the  old  men  of 
his  village  at  the  council  lodge,  in  th^  disri 
tance^  and,  nearer,  the  women  and  the 
children  who  would  sing  his  gallant  deeds^ 
and  the  youths  who  would  learn  tp  mm 
late  his  fame.  On  they  came,  swinging 
hj^  the  scalps  they  had  taken,  the  blqtody 
trophies  of  their  victory,  and  chanting  the 
story  of  their  actions.  At  length  they 
emerged  from  the  forest,  and  stood  in  the 
bright  sun  upon  the  beautiful  green  slope 
of  verdure.  The  prisoners  were  grouped 
together;  their  captors  now  singled  them 
out,  preparing  them  to  start  upon  the  fear- 
ful trial  which  awaited  them.  Father 
Laval  was  pale  and  jaded;  his  face  was 
scarred  and  luruis^d,  and  the  clotted  bipod 
still  disfigured  his  wounded  features ;  his 
hands  were  yet  bound  behind  him.    A 


Mmi!pip|pL,lJ.IWIllllli 


PSRfi  J£AN^ 


m^ 


-tV..M- 


116 


MdhawK  approMcliiea  to  a^.^*  .«s.  ^w.«, 
the  flesh  had  so  swollen  around  the  tight 
band  as  almost  to  conceal  it,  and  the  ktiife 
of  the  savage  gashed  the  hands  of  the 
priest.  Released  from  their  confinement, 
his^'  strilhs  fell  heavily  to  his  side,  inani- 
mate, and  refusing  to  obey  the  stiff  and 
swollen  muscles.  The  blood  began  to 
creep  slowly  in  the  veins,  and  the  sensa- 
tion of  numbness  was  succeeded  by  one  of 
aculi  pain.  The  Indian  then  loosed  the 
band  which  confined  the  black  robe  of  the 
Jesuit .  around  his  body.  His  outer  gar- 
ment was  next  taken  ofi*,  and  Father  Laval 
stood  half  unrobed  ;  his  shirt  was  stained 
with  blood,  and  his  naked  feet  and  legs 
were  torn  and  bleeding,  and  festering  with 
thorns  and  briers  3  every  step  left  its  mrrk 

in  blood.  '    ^*":.  '    ;;i?;-i#M-*  ,  ,:-.     ..: 

The  work  of  the  inaian  was  ibon  abne^ 
and  the  captives  were  prepared  to  run  the 
gauntlet.  The  tender  frame  of  the  young 
novice^  with  the'  red  blood  incrusted  upon 


OR  THf:   MISSIONARY. 


11? 


his  delicate  skio^  and  his  limbs  bruised 
and  swollen,  and  almost  helpless,  contrast- 
ed strangely  with  the  massive  propoi^tk)ns 
of  Le  Loup,  who  still  kept  close  beside 
him,  ready  to  aid  hi^l  in  his  need.,  Strong, 
and  seemingly  unwearied^  the  Huron  stood 
up  like  a  mighty  statue  of  bronze,  heedless 
of  the  many  wounds  upon  his  limbs  and 
breast  "  My  father !"  he  said  to  the  Je- 
suit, as  they  neared  each  other  for  a  mo- 
ment, '^  my  father,  when  Le  Loup  springs 
forward  between  the  lines^  hasten  on,^  an^ 
seek  to  avoid  the  blows  of  the  Iroquois ! 
Make  for  the  war-post  by  the  council 
lodger-gain  it,  and  you  are  safe  !'^ 

Ren6  Bourdoise  turned  towards,  the  spot 
indicated  by  Le  Loup  to  the  Jesuit,  and 
his  heart  shrank  within  him.  A  hundred 
yelling  furies,  with  clubs  and  knives,  were 
between  them  and  the  place  of  refuge,  and 
his  limbs  were  faint  and  weary.  He  raised 

typ  soul 'to  God.  '^"^^t'it    TrT^-m''^*^'\:  -nrtrnm  ^mf^ 

#:f^  Fear  not,  brother/'  said  Le  TiOup, 
''  but  gather  up  all  thy  strength." 


tl8 


^'^^'h^kt.SKJLi^^  .^^ 


"I  will  trust  in  God/*  replied  the  novice 

At  length  the  word  was  given :  **  Jog- 
go  !"-^'^  go  !^^— ^and  the  prisoners  stki^ted. 
The  powerful  Huron  broke  away  at  a 
swinging  trot^  which  puzzled  Father  La^ 
val  to  equal.  Le  Loup  made  for  the  open- 
ing of  the  lines:  a  hundred  arms  were 
uplifted  to  strike — ^knives  glistened;,  ahd 
th'e  whole  gang  of  furies  yelled  with  a  sav-^ 
vtge  delight^^the  strong  runner  paused  for 
It  moment  till  the  Jesuit  was  close  behind 
hiin^  then  bounding  forward^  he  dashed 
fiercely  into  the  midst  of  the  crowd,  cast- 
ing aside  their  blows  and  overturning 
man/iti  his  path.  Yet  he  did  not  pass 
scatheless,  and^  ere  he  had  gone  half  the 
distance,  the  blood  was  streaming  from 
l^is  wounded  body.  The  whole  rage  of 
the  whippers  was  in  a  moment  turned 
«fpon  him,  for  he  had  succeeded  in  bal^ 
fling  many  of  them,  and  they  #01^  pi^ 

vwSb^  him  r^B^dteflis  df  tike  tiefeft,  Md  per* 

■    '  tin  nn  Ty'i         nd  *' 


i'S-i'  ■ ' 


OR  THE  MISSIONARY. 


lid 


mitting  the  two  Frenchmen  to  es(;Ape 
with  little  suffering.  But  there  was  one 
whose  passion  was  not  to  be  led  off. 
Morning  Flower  scorned  to  wteak  her 
vengeance  upon  the  Huron^  for  she  con* 
ceived  that  none  but  the  Frenchman  could 
have  stricken  down  the  Young  Eaglel 
Her  eye  was  turned  upon  the  lesuit^ 
whom  she  saw  passing  almost  unharmed 
in  the  rear  of  the  powerful  warrior.  At 
length  Father  Laval  came  near  her^  has- 
tening forward  at  as  great  speed  as  his 
swollen  and  stiffened  limbs  would  permil. 
She  held  a  heavv  stick  in  her  hand-^het 
arm  was  raised'^the  Jesuit  cast  an  impldr- 
ing  look  upon  her^  but  the  heart  of  the 
girl  was  steeled  to  pity ;  her  savage  nature 
was  unyielding^  and  she  struck  hitn  h 
heavy  blow.  He  staggered  forward^  about 
to  fall ;  at  the  next  moment  he  was  iuised 
and  hurried  forward  by  the  aim  of  one 
of  his  Huron  neophytes.  Bliilded  wbd 
sttinned  by  the  shower  i>f  Mows  mUck 


m 


m,VMtllS.ifMi^r   m-^ 


fell  upoa  him,  he  did  not  recover  complete 
consciousness  until  he  stood  safe  from 
farther  harm  at  the  war-post.  A  wild 
spectacle  met  his  eye  as  he  gazed  over  the 
field  through  which  he  had  just  passed. 
The  tall  Huron,  Le  Loup,  heedless  of 
Uows  and  wounds,  was  still  struggling 
through  the  savage  throng,  carrying  the 
main  body  of  the  whippers  after  him  and 
around  him.  Ever  as  he  turned  and 
doubled,  a  portion  of  his  tormentors  would 
start  before  him  to  cut  off  his  escape ;  then, 
like  the  bunted  wolf,  he  would  burst  upon 
them  with  all  his  strength,  and  break 
through  them-^^nly  to  find  another  body 
ready  to  receive  him.  A  group  of  old 
squaws,  armed  hke  fiends  with  the  worst 
weapons  they  could  obtain,  pointed  and 
jigged  stones,  sharpened  sticks  and  knives, 
attempted  to  stop  his  course.  He  dashed 
into  the  midst  of  them,  striking  the  first  to 
the  earth  before  she  could  aim  a  blow; 
yelling  horribly  as  she  fell,  she  clasped  the 


OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 


121 


warrior's  feet^  and  tripped  him  up.  With 
his  outstretched  arms  he  grasped  several 
of  his  persecutors^  and  they  came  to  the 
ground  together :  his  pursuers^  close  at 
his  heels,  i'ell  over  them,  and  the  living 
pile  struggled  together  in  inextricable  coQr 
fusion,  striking  and  beating  each  other  in* 
diseriminately .  A  shout  of  laughter  broke 
from  the  Mohawk  warriors,  who  watched 
the  scene  with  interest.  Winding  out 
from  the  living  mass  that  was  piled  ^^ 
above  him,  the  Huron  sprang  again  to  Ips 
feet  and  started  off,  delivered  from  more 
than  half  his  pursuers,  who  still  lay 
struggling  together — the  upper  ones  be- 
lieving that  their  victim  was  still  in  their 
power,  while  the  efforts  made  by  those  UE* 
derneath  to  arise  made  the  confusion  still 
more  dire.  The  Huron  was  speeding  on. 
Half  way  to  the  post  tottered  on  the 
poor  novice,  Rene  Bourdoise,  his  young 
limbs  stiff  and  fainting.  Ah !  little  did  he 
think,  when  he  quitted  the  shores  of  beau** 


122 


.K.      PEBE  JEAK^     Sii^ 


tiful  and  gentle  France,  of  the  wild  scenes 
df  suffering  and  torture  be  was  to  endure 
Ibr  the  sake  of  Christ  in  the  dreary  wil- 
demeiHi  of  the  west.  The  companions  of 
bis  early  days  were  wandering  through 
the  bright  valleys  of  his  native  land  ;  songs 
of  joy  were  upon  their  lips,  glad  music 
ringing  in  their  ears,  loving  hearts  and 
teiicler  haads  around  them.  In  his  ear 
rang  the  yell  of  the  wild  Mohawk,  and 
4ie  hand  of  the  pitiless  savage  was  upon 
mkif  Then  he  called  to  mind  his  solemn 
tb^ation,  and  devoting  himself  to  suffer- 
ing, clasped  his  hands  towards  heaven, 
and  struggled  on,    ^  — >^^*  ^*' 

**  Grant  me  strength  to  bear  my  cross, 
O  God !"  he  said,       %^     ^*/  «^**i « 


The  novice  had  already  reached  the 
stream ;  he  had  received  little  else  but  pass- 
ing blows,  for  the  strong  Hurons  afforded 
tetter  game  to  these  human  hunters.  The 
younger  and  the  weaker,  who  feared  to 
grapple  with  the  stout  warriors,  alone  pur^ 


<  i 


OR   THE    MISSIONARY. 


123 


senes 
idure 

r  Wil- 
ms of 
rough 
songs 
musio 
IB  ancl 
lis  ear 
k^  and 
•i  upon 
(olemn 
suffer- 
eaven, 


sued  hitff.  But  now  a  party  rushed  to- 
wards him,  and  in  an  instant  the  fainting 
youth  sank  beneath  their  blows.  It  was 
at  the  moment  that  Le  Loup  approached 
the  creek.  His  eye  rested  upon  the  novice 
as  he  fell  among  his  tormentors,  and  he 
dashed  through  their  midst,  drawing  them 
after  him  in  the  race.  Rene  Bourdoise 
arose— the  Indians  were  already  in  ail*- 
other  portion  of  the  field,  and  he  passed 
the  stream,  and,  painfully  toiling  up  die 
hill,  touched  the  war-post.  At  length  the 
chase  began  to  flag,  and  Le  Loup,  having 
succeeded  in  doubling  on  his  pursuers,, 
loped  up  the  hill  to  the  goal.  The  last 
Huron  soon  came  in. 

The  overthrown  squaws,  bruised  and 
beaten,  gathered  round  the  group  of  cap^ 
tives,  and  with  loud  imprecations  menaced 
the  cause  of  their  misfortunes  with  the 
vengeance  of  the  tribe. 

•*  Ah !"  said  one, "  wait,  when  the  Hu- 
ron is  bound  to  the  post  and  the  flames 


124 


►TiJv  PERE  JEAN.     ^^^ 


are  kindled  around  him,  we  will  torture 
the  dog  till  he  screams  with  pain/^ 

**  Yes,  the  Mohawk  women  will  make 
the  Huron  warrior  yell  with  the  torment,'* 
and  the  fiends  shouted  in  anticipation  of 
the  sacrifice.  Le  Loup  looked  calmly  on 
and  smiled. 

The  prisoners  were  again  bound,  and, 
the  ceremonies  attendant  upon  the  return 
of  the  war  party  having  been  gone  through, 
were  placed  under  a  guard  in  the  council 
lodge,  while  the  warriors  dispersed  hrough 
the  Tillage,  each  with  his  band  of  friends 
and  admirers.  A  portion  of  the  war  party 
belonged  to  another  village;  these  were 
entertained  with  dances  and  feasting  until 
towards  evening,  when  they  took  their 
departure  for  their  own  homes,  contrary 
to  their  usual  custom,  leaving  the  prison- 
er;? at  the  first  village,  to  be  disposed  of  by 
a  joint  council  at  some  futute  di^y.      ^^  ; 

■  i;  I  f  ■     , 


Baptism  in  bondage, 

HE  forest  to  ihe  north  of  the  vil- 
lage was  filled  with  undergrowth, 
and  was  wild  and  rocky,  rising  at  times 
into  hills  of  considerable  size,  which  swept 
gradually  down  until  they  melted  in  the 
gentle  as<^.ent  upon  which  the  Mohawk 
village  stood.  Towards  the  close  of  the 
day,  which  had  been  signalized  by  the  re- 
turn of  the  war  party,  a  solitary  Indian 
cautiously  made  his  way  through  the 
thick  bushes,  replacing  every  leaf  and 
branch  in  its  position,  and  covering  each 
footstep  as  he  passed.  His  course  was 
turned  in  the  direction  of  the  wild^tof  the 
hilis.     4^  tie  proceeded,  the  gfound  be^ 


126 


PER£   JEAN, 


came  more  broken  and  rocky  until  a  huge 
ledge  rose  abruptly  in  the  forest,  jutting 
almost  over  the  summits  of  the  oaks.  At 
the  foot  of  the  cliff  he  paused  for,  a  mo- 
menty  and  surveyed  the  face  and  summit 
of  the  rock.  He  seemed  satisfied,  and 
moved  along  the  base  of  the  ledge  unt.il 
he  reached  a  part  that  was  less  precipi- 
tous, and  wa3  covered  with  bushes  and 
creepers  growing  out  of  the  many  crevices 
and  spots  of  earth  upon  its  sides.  Here  he 
paused  for  a  moment,  and,  having  made 
a  low  signal,  which  was  answered  from 
above,  began  to  ascend.  A  little  distance 
from  the  summit^the  rock  receded  until  it 
opened  into  sometning  like  a  cave^  which 
was  completely  hidden  from  below  by  the 
bushes  and  wild  vines  in  bloom,  which  here 
clustered  thick  upon  the  side  of  the  ascent. 
At  the  further  end  ef  the  recess  sat  two 
figures,  silent  and  motionless  \  their  rifles* 

*Tfai8  term  has  been  used  throughout  this  story; 
perhaps  musA^et  would  have  been  more  correct, 
though  at  the  date  of  the  story  few  Indians  w^re 


OR   TH£    MISSIONARY^ 


127 


were  lying  near  them.  The  Indian  en^ 
tered  and  took  his  seat  by  his  company* 
ions ;  at  length  he  spoke^  pointing  with 
his  hand  over  his  shoulder  towards  the 
village.    f«^^a«#7  fi!fij*es'¥t 

'^  The  Hurons  and  the  blackgown  are 
in  the  council  lodge.  No  more  gauntlet; 
the  warriors  from  the  other  villages  have 
gone,''  he  said,  and  held  up  the  fingeni  of 
both  hands  twice  to  indicate  their  number. 
'^  So  many  braves  at  the  village/'  and  hf 
again  held  up  his  fingers  till  they  indicatad 
forty;  ''must  wait."  The  Hurons  as-" 
se^ed»  and  Ahasistari  continued :  ''  The 
bikckgown  is  weak  and  bruised ;  many 
days  mu  it  pass  before  he  can  travel  again 
to  the  river.  The  Hurons  must  wait  till 
they  can  go  faster  than  the  Mohawk,  or 
they  will  gather  from  the  tribes  and  follow 
on  the  traili^ 


^i:i-t£l,J 


-m 


xi^'- 


■A- 


f;^-;SJi. 


?«^.iSJ' 


At  length  one  of  the  Hurons  spoke: 


!.r.i.f  'it> 


possef  sed  of  Ate*iutm  it  All.  Hie  Mofaawkt  ob* 
tained  then  at  an  earlier  period,  having  been  aap 
plied  by  the  Dutch  traders^ 


,fjrri 


128 


«^' 


.HH    PERE  JEXIX, 


^fWatook  may  collect  the  braves,  and  be 
here  in  another  sun."  .m'^wm&i  -mm'  mr^^^ 
*lii^'Cluickfoot/*  said  Ahasistari^  "it  is 
better  that  he  should  lie  out  with  the  war- 
riors some  distance  in  the  forest.  There 
19  a  little  stream,  a  day's  journey  from  the 
village  of  the  Mohawks ;  we  crossed  it  on 
the  traih  Let  him  hide  upon  its  banks. 
If  he  come  nearer,  a  wandering  Mohawk 
might  strike  upoir  his  trail,  and  then  all 
hope  will  be  lost.  We  can  not  attempt  a 
rescue  ontil  the  blackgowns  are  strong 
enough  to  journey  with  us.  Watoak  and 
his  braves  wilt  follow  the  trail  of  the  Mo- 
hawks ;  Cluickfoot  must  retrace  it,  and 
meet  hinu  He  will  bid  him  to  remain 
tmtil  Ahasistari  commands  again. 'V^a 

"Good,''  said  the  Huron,  and,  takiL^g 
up  his  rifle,  wearied  as  he  was,  with  the 
elastic  tread  of  the  brave,  departed.  The 
9thers  sat  still.       ^t  ^  > 

Ahasistari  and  his  two  followers  had 
horared  around  the  trail  of  the  Mohawks^ 


'•■^J"'.  'yJt-y^'''^'"''  ■ 


r- 


OR    THE   MISSIONARY. 


.129 


but  as  the  foe  was  very  numerous— about 
fifty  warriors  in  all'^had  not  obtained  a 
single  opportunity  of  attempting  the  res- 
cue of  the  prisoners  by  artifice ;  of  course 
force  was  out  of  the  question.  It  now  be- 
came necessary  for  the  chief  to  delay  his 
operations  for  the  reasons  which  be  gave 
his  followers^  and  also  in  the  hope  that  the 
number  of  the  warriors  at  the  village 
might  be  reduced  by  some  new  expedition, 
and  thus  afford  a  favorable  opportunity  of 
making  an  assault,  with  whatever  braves 
Watook  might  bring  up,to  whom  he  could 
at  any  time  transmit  his  orders  by  his  re- 
maining companion.  In  the  meantime, 
too,  some  chance  of  a  successful  strata- 
gem might  present  itself,  and  he  deter- 
mined to  watch  the  village  closely  to  se- 
cure if  possible  the  escape  of  his  friends. 
When  the  Mohawks  had  approached 
the  end  of  their  journey,  the  Hurons  for- 
sook their  trail,  and  struck  ofi*  through  the 
forest  to  the  hills,  among  which  they  were 


■»'t, 


130 


PERE   JEAN^ 


now  concealed^  having  perceived  them  on 
their  path  from  the  summit  of  a  distant 
elevation.  The  track-of  a  fox  had  led  them 
up  the  ledge  of  rocks  to  the  cave^  and,  at 
the  same  time,  gave  them  the  assurance 
that  it  was  altogether  unfrequented  by 
their  foes.  Leaving  his  companions, 
Ahasistari  then  crept  stealthily  towards 
the  village,  and  reached  it  in  time  to  be  a 
witness  from  a  neighboring  thicket  of  all 
the  scenes  which  followed  upon  the  ar- 
rival of  the  war  party,  and  learned  from 
a  single  glance  the  condition  of  the  cap- 
tives. His  plans  were  formed,  and  he  re- 
turned to  the  rocks  to  carry  them  out. 
With  twenty  good  braves  he  would  not 
have  hesitated  to  attack  the  village,  know- 
ing the  vast  advantage  which  darkness 
and  surprise  give  to  even  a  few  assailants 
over  a  larger  number,  mingled  with  wo- 
men and  children,  and  unprepared  for 
battle*  The  village,  too,  was  not  de- 
fended by  any  stockade  or  fortification^  for 


OR  THE    MISSIONARY. 


131 


such  was  the  terror  of  the  Mohawk  name 
that  few  of  their  enemies  dared  tq  set  foot 
upon  their  territory^.  But  Ahasistari 
deemed  it  more  prudent  to  postpone  the 
attempt  Judging  from  the  departure  of  the 
braves  of  the  neighboring  village  without 
carrying  with  them  a  portion  of  the  pris- 
oners, that  for  the  present  they  were  in 
no  danger  of  public  execution.  Such, 
however,  he  knew  to  be  the  passionate 
cruelty  of  the  Iroquois  that  any  one  of 
them  might  be  sacrificed  at  a  moment. 
This  danger  could  not  be  avoided. 

The  night  that  followed  was  a  festive 
one  in  the  village  of  the  Mohawks.  Long 
continued  were  the  rejoicings  of  the  peo^ 
pie  over  the  valor  of  the  braves,  and  it  was 
determined  in  council  to  despatch  runners 
to  Fort  Orange  with  a  portion  of  the  booty, 
which  had  been  large,  to  procure  •*  fires- 
water"  from  the  traders  for  a  solemn 
festival  over  the  victory.  In  the  midst  of 
[all  this  joy,  many  sleepless  hours  had 


132 


fHi  PERE   JEAN, 


passed  over  the  heads  of  the  two  French- 
men. Sore,  bruised,  suffering  intense 
pain,  unable  to  lie  at  ease,  slumber  long 
delayed  to  shroud  their  weariness  in  ob- 
livion. At  length  it  came.  The  Hurons, 
after  the  prayers  of  the  night  had  been 
said,  soon  yielded  to  sleep,  accustomed  as 
Ihey  were  to  catch  repose  in  any  attitude. 
Day  broke  gaily  over  the  village,  and  the 
rays  of  the  bright  sun  stole  in  through  the 
chinks  of  the  council  lodge,  and  rested  in 
golden  streaks  upon  the  hard  trodden 
earthen  floor.  As  the  luminary  rose 
higher  in  the  sky,  a  beam,  playing  througti  1 
a  narrow  crevice,  crept  slowly  over  lhe| 
pale  face  of  the  young  novice.  His  lips 
were  drawn  apart,  a  fixed  expression  of| 
pain  dw?lt  upon  his  features,  and  his 
heavy  and  disturbed  breathing  denoted  the  I 
fever  that  raged  in  his  veins.  He  slept 
on;  the  joyous  ray  playing  upon  his  sad! 
features,  myriads  of  motes  holding  their 
gay  revels  in  its  beams.    Near  him  slum- 


';,a'^'--v<if 


OR  THE    MISSIONARY. 


133 


bered  Father  Laval.  The  Hurons  were 
stretched  around  upon  the  floor  in  deep  h 
sleep.  At  the  door  of  the  lodge  sat  the 
guard,  his  head  resting  upon  his  knee^ 
and  his  quick  eye  occasionally  scanning 
the  slumberers;  but  for  its  motion  he  would 
have  seemed  as  rapt  in  sleep  as  they. 
Time  passed  on;  the  sounds  without  told 
that  the  village  was  again  all  alive^  and 
one  by  one  the  Hurons  awoke  from  their 
long  repose,  and,  stretching  their  cramped 
limbs  as  best  they  might,  arose  to  a  sit- 
ting posture.  A  single  glance  of  his  eye 
was  all  the  notice  the  guard  deigned  to 
bestow  upon  their  movements.  The  two 
Frenchmen  still  slept  on.  At  length 
Father  Laval  awoke.  For  a  moment  he 
gazed  around  unable  to  realize  his  situa- 
tion; then  turning  himself,  he  endeavored 
to  kneel ;  the  effor  was  painful,  but  he 
succeeded.  Rene  Bourdoise  now  opened 
his  eyes^but  he  was  unable  to  move.^t  ^'t 
4f  Do  not  seek  to  rise,  my  son,''  said  the 


..•»< 


134 


,^f    P^R£  JEAN^ 


VV  ii 


Jesuit,  " you  are  too  weak;  the  prayer  of 
the  heart  is  acceptable  to  God^  whether 
you  kneel  or  not.'^  Then  Father  Laval 
addressed  the  Hurons.  "  My  children, 
from  the  midst  of  our  sufferings  let  us  cry 
out  to  heaven  for  mercy^  not  for  ihe  bodies 
which  are  of  earth  and  perishable,  but  for 
the  souls  which  are  immortal,  undying. 
Lef^us  beseech  our  heavenly  Father  to 
accept  our  sufferings  here  in  atonement 
through  the  blood  of  his  Son  for  the  sins 
offbur  past  lives.  Let  us  noc  repine.  We 
suffer — ^  it  is  for  the  greater  glory  of  God.' 
He  will  draw  goo«i  for  us  out  of  this  e\ril. 
Let  us  pray  ;  let  us  join  in  spirit  with  our 
brethren  of  the  mission  of  St.  Mary  in  the 
holy  sacrifice  of  the  altar.'?,  Im^^-^w^^^ 
The  Indians  listened  in  silence,  and  the 
JeBuit  praryed  aloud.  Many  moments 
padssed  thuifin  holy  prayer  and  meditation. 
Streams  of  heavenly  consolation  seemed 
to  pour  down  upon  the  priest  and  his  little 
flock.     Rapt  in  holy  abstraction,  their 


OR   tHE   MISSIONARY. 


■':.vs^->_  ^ 


185 


sofierings  were  ail  forgotten;  and,. seated 
in  heart  at  the  foot  of  the  Saviour's  cross^ 
their  own  sorrows  dwindled  into  nothing-^ 
ness  in  the  contemplation  of  his  infinite 
passion.  Then  the  stern  spirit  of  the- 
Hurons  melted^  and  the  enduring  warrior 
became  the  contrite  penitent.  ,  .yi^^pil^ . 
,:^t^*The  anger  of  the  Iroquois  is  *nri- 
sparing^  my  father.  Death  may  be  ourii. 
at  any  moment."  said  Leloup,  ai  ini 
consoling  prayer  was  ended.      .    ^  i  ^ 

'*  True,  my  son ;  let  us  p.epare  to  meet 
it ;"  and  the  Indian,  moving  nearer  to  the 
priest,  began  his  confession.  It  was  done ; 
and  the  Jesuit  pronounced  the  words  of 
absolution  in  virtue  of  that  power  com* 
mitted  by  Christ  to  his  church,  ^' Whose 
sins  ye  shall  forgive,  they  are  forgiven." 

*'Go  in  peace!"  said  the  priest,  and 
another  and  another  came.  Often  befcnri 
had  these  Christian  eavageS;  in  their  un-* 
sophisticated  nature,  mafle  public  confesi^ 
sion  of  their  faults,  iseeking  to  humblfi 


186 


ISM    PERB  JEAK^      »^< 


rt 


themselves  before  heaven  and  eaith^  and 
thus  to  show  the  sincerity  of  their  repent- 
ance^  and  to  do  penance  by  mortifying 
their  pride  and  self-love ;  now,  therefore, 
they  did  not  heed  the  presence  of  their 
brethren*  Two  there  were  who  were  yet 
unbaptized,  two  neophytes  longing  for 
the  redeeming  waters  of  the  purifying 
sacrament.  In  turn  they  knelt  and  con- 
fessed themselves,  and  besought  baptism. 
Alas!  the  good  priest,  bound  hand  and 
foot,  without  a  drop  of  water^  was  unable 
to  administer  the  sacred  ritei^i*  ^  .ii  ^i; 
I  The  pious  occupation  of  the  prisoners 
was  at  length  interrupted  by  the  entrance 
of  a  warrior,  who  was  soon  followed  by 
another.  It  was  not  long  before  a  num- 
ber had  gathered  in  the  lodge.  One  of 
the  Mohawks,  at  length,  approached  the 
Jesuit,  and  loosed  the  cords  that  bound 
him;  then'he  released  the  young  noVice. 
Father  Laval  sat  still  for  some  mo- 
ments, endeavoring  to  overcome  the  stiff* 


OR  THE   MISSIOKART. 


isr 


Hess  of  his  limbs.  Wbllst  te  temained 
JQ  tbis  position  an  Indian  entered  the' 
iod^^  bearing  in  his  hand  an  ear  of  corn 
upon  the-stock,  which  he  had  just  plucked;^ 
he  threw  it  to  the  Jesait.  The  sunlight 
played  upon  it  as  it  lay-^^nd  see!  upon 
its  silken  beard  and  broad  Made  clung 
little  drops  of  dew  *-^  sparkhng  and  glis- 
tening, like  jewels  in  the  light!  Ahf  ht^ 
more  precious  at  that  moment  than  all 
the  diamonds  of  Golconda  f  There  waa 
enough  to  baptize  the  two  captive  Hu«* 
rons.  Taking  it  up  carefully^  he  arose, 
zeal  and  joy  overcorming  pain  and  weak- 
ness, and  knelt  above  the  prostrate  nee- 
phytes. 


.■'■e,^*t^.j(«j~t-'>j.-  ■I'fSJM:^ 


t^'jifi ^-j^^..'  Y,ii,vp.->»s*|k'  ,:?•>'  * 


*S 


O  nry  children,  the  hand  of  the  erver 
mereifufl  is- with  its.  Kneel-^kneeH^'  and* 
in  the  wild  forest  lodge^  made  holy  as 
God's  temple  by  the  prayers  ami  suffer- 

*  1%i0  iBcideiit  is  ralated  of  FliAe#lHite  Jmiei 
while  a  captive  among  the  Mohawks,  bj  Ban- 
croft, almost  iir  the  Words  used  above.  See  Ban- 
crqft,  Toh  Mi,  p,  133. 

10 


'^.f^pvk^'^i 


138 


vf4.  PEBS  JEAN,      iif) 


itigs  of  his  faithful  children,  with  the 
Christian  Huron  and  wild  Mohawk  look- 
ing on,  without  sponsor,  with  no  lights 
but  God's  own  sunlight,  with  no  incense 
but  the  ineifably  sweet  incense  of  humble 
prayer,  before  the  altar  of  the  heart,  the 
priest  admitted  the  rejoicing  neophytes 
into  the  fold  of  Christ,  into  the  household 
of  faith,  sprinkling  the  pure  dew  of  heaven 
upon  their  uplifted  brows.  Wondrously 
solemn  was  that  simple  baptism  in  the 
wilderness,  in  the  midst  of  trials  and  suf- 
ferings,  ia  the  face  of  death.  No  swelling 
organ  arose  over  the  sacrament;  no 
swinging  bell  pealed  out ;  no  white  robe 
upon  the  neophyte,  but  the  stainless  one 
of  purity  of  heart ;  no  vestment  on  the 
priest  but  the  martyr's,  stained  with 
blood,  m-  wmwi  •  -  -li  m^mmi  mf^'^at-i^ 
*'Come  sorrow;  come  death,"  ex- 
claimed thQ,  Jesmjit ;  ^'  I  will  heed  them 


not,  O  God!  for  oft 
end." 


».-•   T,,] 


ercy  there  is  no 


% 


*7 


Oil   TH£   MISSIONARY. 


139 


Scarcely  had  he  fiQished  before  an  In- 
dian summoned  him  to  follow  him. 
Father  Laval  left  the  lodge.  A  group  of 
boys  were  gathered  before  the  door^  and 
watched  the  priest  with  interest  as  he 
passed  through  them^  but  did  not  molest 
him.  His  conductor,  crossing  the  open 
space  around  the  Jodge,  turned  his  steps 
towards  a  tent  at  the  end  of  the  village 
near  the  forest.  This  rude  dwelling  of 
the  savage  wa;^  constructed  of  poles  sunk 
in  the  ground^  in  a  circle^  with  their  tops* 
bent  to  a  concpion  point  and  fastened 
together.  Over  this  frame  was  stretched 
a  canopy  of  biMfalo  skins,  stitched  to- 
gether with  tIPead  made  of  the  tendons 
of  t]|e  deer.  It  was  large  and  eommodi- 
ou^and  betokened  the  weahh  and  stand- 
ing of  its  owner.  In  front  the  two  ends> 
of  the  covering  hung  apart,  leaving  a 
space  for  entrangg,  whi^h  was  usually 
closed  up  by  a  ^^le  buffalo  robe  sus- 
pended from  a*cross  pi^e  above.    This 


140 


r       /;j    PBRE  JEAN,       m 


WBBs  of  course,  raised  to  admit  light  aDd 
air.  The  tent  was  of  far  better  order  than 
the  lodges  around  it,  which  were  rude 
huts  covered  with  bark.  The  Indian 
motioned  Father  Laval  to  enter.  Lying 
on  a  couch  of  skins,  the  Jesuit  beheld  the 
young  chief  whose  wounds  he  had  bound 
up  on  the  field  of  battle.  An  old  man  sat 
near  him ;  it  was  the  father  of  Kiskepila, 
Hnd  the  chief  of  the  village.  The  priest 
approached  the  couch  of  the  wounded 
man  to  feel  his  pulse,  but  the  old  man 
waved  him  away  with  ^joaotion  of  his 
hand.-  -^-rf^rx  ^^i^,.^.. 

''Pale  face!''  he  saidl'in  the  Huron 
tongue^  ''  you  are  the  f(%  of  the  Mo- 
hawks^ and  yet  you  sought  tp  heai^i^he 
wounds  of  Kiskepila.!'..^,, ^.      ^  ll 

"  I  am  the  foe  of  no  people,'' replied 
the  Jesuit  meekly ;  ''  my  mission  is  to 
save,  not  to  destroy-" 

"Thou  art  the/ri«JfeLthe  Huron  ?" 
said  the  old  man^nterrogativcly . 


OR  THE   MISSIONARY 


.  V   '   141 


"  Dost  thou  see  the  sun  ?"  said  the 
priest.  ''  The  God  who  created  it  made 
it  to  shiue  alike  upon  the  Huron  and  the 
Mohawk.  Its  beams  ripen  the  corn  in 
the  country  of  the  Iroquois,  and  in  the 
lands  beyond  the  great  lakes.  Will  the 
Mohawk  vpil  his  eye^:  td  the  sunlight 
because  its  rays  «hine  upon  the  Huron 
too?"^  The  Indian  was  silent,  and  the 
Jesuit  continued  :*^^'» »?    *>*rr  -m- 

*'  The  Great  Spirit  loves  all  Jiis  chil- 
dren, the  Mohfewk  and  the  Huron ;  will 
the  wise  and  brtve  Mohawk  shut  his  ears 
to  the  words  of  the  Great  Spirit  because 
the^uron  hai already  heard  them?" 

"Pale  facef the  Mohawk  listens  to  the 
voii  of  Owaftieeyo ;  he  hears  it  in  the 
forest,  and  ia  the  waters,;  and  in  the 
winds!"      '  ■    titeiit#  :'.^    .  ' 

V  The  Great  Spirit  has  taught  us,  sa- 
chem, to  love  tb||^.\f l|o  bate  us — to  love 
all  men— to  l^t.^P^'fi^rts  shine  on  all 
like  the  s\kii$)m^i^n P 


*  V: 


Tcvrf-  -m 


142        jf    .i>r     PURE  JEAN,     3|t^ 


•  V    ■ 

•  ♦ 


«  Vk 


H)f /Tugfe/"   exclaimed    the    Mohawk, 

"does  the  pale  face  speak  with  a  forked 

tongue?    The  Iroquois  strikes  his  enemy, 

and  it  is  good!^^  and  he  laid  his  hand  upon 
his  heart.      .  n-,.v....^r-^:,j.  -^ ..  „:.....-.....,..:,.  ...;*. 

^  Father  Laval  paused  for  a  moment  ere 
%e  answered  this  appeal  to  the  natural  pas- 
Hjons  of  man  as  an  argument  against  the 
tl^th  of  the  Christian  doctrine,  and  then, 
pointing  to  the  wounded  man,  said : 
"  Kiskepila  sought  >  the  life  of  the  pale 
face  — 


>r 


;;?*■ 


"And  the  pale  face  saved  the  life  of 
Kiskepila,"  interrupted  Ihe  young  brave 
in  a  tone  of  deep  feeling.  "  The  words 
of  the  blackgown  are  trifc.  The  wolf 
kills  the  deer,  the  bear  the  buffaloMhe 
hawk  the  dove,  and  the^  Mohawk  nis 
wounded  foe.  Jt  Is  only  the  pale  face — 
the  blackgQwd — that  J)inds  up  the  wounds 
of  his  enemy.  -His  Heuct  is  gentle  as  the 
summer  breeze  PK      ^^  itt^ 

ft  tt  -*» ;' 

Silence  ensuecT,  for  the  Inl^n  scarcely 
knew  how  to  recede  Ind^jestimate  the 


^:>^.i-(^)~-'-'^ 


OR  THE   MI8SI0KART.     %        148 


wonderful  magDanimity  of  Christianity. 
Nature  taught  him  to  do  good  for  good ; 
to  return  good  for  evil  was  a  new  thought 
to  him^  yet  it  awoke  a  slumbering  chord 
of  the  heart ;  he  began  to  feel  the  sublim 
ity  of  the  precept^  and  was  silent.  At 
this  point  of  the  conversation  a  squaw 
entered  the  lodge,  bes^ring  several  ears  of 
young  corn,  and  a  quantity  of  beans 
which  had  been  roasted  at  a  fire  without^ 
and  placed  them  on  a  mat  upon  the  floor. 
"Eat!''  said  the  chief.  Father  Laval 
approached,  and  making  the  sign  of  the 
cross,  blessed  the  simple  provisions  which 
had  been  oSbred  to  him,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  satisfy  his  famished  appetite. 
Hi^erto  he  had  been  furnished  with 
barely  enough  food  to  support  his  strength, 
for  it  was  a  common  mode  of  torture 
among  the  Indians  to  ciake  their  prison- 
ers pass  days  aj^^nights  together  with 
barely  enough  ^R  to  sustain  life,  and 
yet  inflict  an  incredible  amount  of  sufier- 


»'/r;_.>  ■'/Ai'iS-' 


144 


leH^FBRS  JEAH, 


^f 


iDg.  Yet  he  nte  moderately.  A  gourd 
of  water  was  placed  beside  him — he  had 
not  slaked  ^his  thirst  for  many^hours — f: 
WHS  grateful  to  his  burning  lips.  Having 
returned  thanks  to  God,  he  arose  and 
approached  the  couch.  The  chief  again 
apoke :  ^'  The  pale  face  made  a  sign  upon 
his  forehead '^^^ '*^^**^^^'^  ..'■'•'''^^'^''■^  '"^■'^-'^  i>-*vti*»:  j  i* 

44^  It  was  the  sign  of  the  cross,''  replied 
the  Jesuit.  ^«  ?j  is"  m:mmif  w^'^-:^.  k^mi^  ■i^'::>ui;w 

The  chief  nodded  his  head  afHrtnatively. 
'*  I  thank  the  Great  Spirit  for  his  gifts." 

Then  the  Jesuit  began  to  examine  the 
wounds  of  Kiskepila,  and  to  bind  them 
anew^all  the  while  explaining  the  mean- 
ing of  the  holy  symbol  which  he  had 
used;  how  God  had  sent  his  Son  on 
earth  after  the  sin  of  our  first  parents,  and 
how  his  chosen  people  had  scourged  and 
put  him  to  death  upon  the  eross,  and 
how,  ever  since  thej^^s  followers  had 
used  that  sign  to  reo^Ro  their  minds  the 
recollection  of  UfTagoQy  and  death. 


Oft  THE   MI6SI0NARY. 


146 


f^Ugh  !  Dogs!"  exclaimed  Kiskepila, 
as  he  shook  his  clenched  .fist.  The  old 
chief  list^ed  with  a  look  of  incredulity. 

While  the  priest  was  speaking  a  figure 
glided  softly  in  at  the  opening  of  the  tent^ 
and  crouched  silently  in  an  obscure  corner 
with  the  females  of  the  family.  Morning 
Flower  listened :  she  could  understand 
but  little,  for  he  spoke  in  the  Huron  dia- 
lect. In  r  iishment,  she  gazed  upon 
him  as  he  tenderly  bound  up  the  wounds 
of  her  lorer.  The  passion  of  the  pre- 
vious evening  had  subsided^  and  she  re- 
membered with  a  sorrowing  heart  that 
she  had  tortured  him  in  the  gauntlet. 
Hers  was  a  gentle  spirit  in  spite  of  its 
wild  education.  She  arose,  approached 
the  priest^  and  looked  him  in  the  face;  at 
the  same  moment  the  young  warrior^ 
pointing  ta  the  Jesuit,  said  :    r%^  «^i^^- 

"  Morning  Flower,  the  blackrobe  saved 
the  life  of  Kiskepila.when  the  Young  Ea^ 
gle  had  slain  his  people— the  Hurons.'' 


146 


/Hi    PERE  JEAN,     |0 


,  tiThen  the  heart  of  the  woman  was  true, 
and,  in  s  >e  of  early  habits  and  barbarous 
training,  eat  there  as  nature  idkde  it.  A 
gush  of  remorse  fillea  her  soul,  and  with 
a  low  wild  cry  she  broke  away  from  the 
tent.  The  two  Mohawks  looked  at  each 
other  in  astonishment,  unable  to  compre- 
hend the  cause  of  so  singular  an  exhibi- 
tion of  feeling ;  and  the  elder  exclaimed 
in  a  low  tone,  "Hugh!  Medicine!"  and 
shook  his  head^  attributing  the  actioii  of 
i:he  girl  to  some  species  of  enchantment 
on  the  part  of  the  priest.  But  Father  La- 
val well  understood  it :  he  recognised  the 
maiden  who  had  so  relentlessly  pursued 
him  whilst  running  the  gauntlet:  yet  he 
continued  the  conversation,  without  heed- 
ing the  circumstance  farther,  i^?*^  ;?^  ^  **^^ 
i,^.  At  length  the  Jesuit  returned  to  the 
council  lodge,  where  he  busied  himself 
in  ministering  i0  the  wounded  Hurons. 
Rene  Bourdoise,  released  from  the  tight 
bonds  which  had  been  so  painful,  began 


■■*.' 


OR  TH£   MISSIONARY. 


147 


to  recover  a  little  from  the  weaknest^  that 
had  rendered  him  so  helpless.  With  a 
tottering  ^p  he  descended  to  the  streamr^ 
and  washed  the  blood  from  his  face  and 
hands^  and  laved  his  swollen  feet.  The 
cool  water  refreshed  and  strengthened 
him,  calming  the  fever  of  his  veins.  He 
found  a  gourd  upon  the  bank^  and^  filling 
it,  bore  it  to  the  famished  prisoners  at  the 
lodge.  The  Jesuit  assisted  the  novice, 
unheeded  by  the  Mohawks,  who  listlessly 
reclined  on  the  grass,  occasionally  cast- 
ing a  glance  upon  the  prisoners,  to  see 
that  no  attempt  was  made  to  loosen  their 
bonds. '.■  ■t>-'ii''*f^^'  &>^^^•^  ?■*■?, -T^*' -i-**^''"^/  fji*"  'i'!^' 
Towards  evening  the  Jesuit  again  en- 
tered, the  tent  of  Kiodego.  Kiskepila  was 
resting  in  a  half  recumbent  position,  sup- 
ported by  a  pile  of  furs  that  a  king  might 
have  envied.  Many  days  had  passed 
since  his  wounds  had  been  received,  for 
the  march  was  long  and  tedious,  and  he 
was  now  recruiting  his   trengtb.    Father 


t  ^ 


148 


%.      J»£RE   JEAN^ 


>« 


LaiTal  again  felt  his  puis?,  for  he  feared 
lest  the  fatigue  of  a  long  journey,  upon  a 
fQUgh  litter  niight  bring  un  a  fever  which 
would  pro\  fatal ;  but  a  skilful  prepara- 
tion of  draughts  from  herbs  and  roots  had 
prevented  it:  the  stroke  was  still  calm 
and  regular.  Then  he  entered  into  con- 
versation with  the  young  brave,  using  as 
much  as  possible  the  Mohawk  tongue, 
earnestly  seeking  to  become  familiar  with 
it  for  *'  the  greater  glory  of  God.'^  In  the 
tedious  and  painful  route  he  had  caught 
a  knowledge  of  it  from  his  captors,  and 
its  affinity  with  the  Huron  tongue,  which 
he  spoke  with  ease  and  fluency,  enabled 
him  to  make  rapid  progress.  The  young 
warrior  listened  to  him  patiently,  but  as 
soon  as  he  paused  addressed  him:  ^^  >ii¥!;r? 
'^  Blackgown,  you  have  taught  me  that 
the  pale  face  loves  all,  and  forgives  those 
who  have  injured  him.  Morning  Flow- 
er,"— and  the  young  maiden,  springing 
up  from  a  group  of  females  in  the  farther 


-■,--■•  vT,-r'|--T^  'j;:-"".-  '\.  ^.'-'W-ji^.'-";  " 


OR   TH£   MISSIONARY. 


149 


part  of  the  tent,  approached  and  stood  be* 
side  the  priest, — "Morning  Flower,  wbean 
the  blood  of  Kiskepilc  was  Sowing  from 
his  veins,  and  Kis  heart  was  growing  cold, 
the  hand  of  the  pale  face  stopped  its  flow./ 
Blaekgown,  Morning  Flower  is  the  dcs-l 
tined  bride.of  Kiskepila.^'    i^^  immmm^d' 
The  priest  placed  hi3  hands  upon  the 
head  of  the  young  girl,  and  then,  raising 
them  up  to  heaven^  uttered  a  prayer  for 
the  wild  but  gentle  spirit  before  him.    **  O 
God,  grant  that  the  light  of  thy  faith  may 
pierce  .the  heart  of  this  untutored  girl,  and 
of  all  here.    Mary,  mother  of  the  sorrow- 
ful, bring  these  wanderers  to  the  faith  of 
thy  Son  by  the  powerful  intercession  of 
thy  prayers.    And  he  added,  in  the  Mo-t 
hawk  tongue,  "  Daughter^  peace  be  with"^ 
thee."..-.-  ...,.„..  ,:.:'r-^mh-t..  ^..  irftei^'i^it 


Then  Father  Laval  began  to  discourse 
again  upon  the  subject  of  his  morning's 
conversation,  speaking  in  the  Mbhawk 
dialect  as  well  as  he  could.    Kiskepila 


150 


PER£   JEAN, 


Hi 


i 


listened  attentively^  and  the  maiden^  seat- 
ed at  her  lover^s  feet,  gathered  every  word 
that  fell  from  the  lips  of  the  priest.  4 -^ 
When  the  Jesuit  had  "departed,  the 
young  warrior  conversed  with  Morning 
Flower  upon  the  discourse  which  they 
had  heard^  explaining  such  portions  as 
had  been  uttered  in  the  Huron  dialect,  and 
wonderingover  that  which  was  mysterious 
and  difficult,  for  it  is  hard  to  express  ab- 
stract ideas  in  the  Indian  language.  The 
kindness  and  attention  of  the  missionary 
had  won  the  heart  of  the  young  Iroquois, 
and,  finding  that  he  acted  out  in  his  own  life 
what  he  taught  to  others,  under  the  im- 
pulse of  a  grateful  feeling,  he  lent  a  will- 
ing ear  to  his  words.  Kiskepila  had  a 
clear  head,  and  the  very  fact  that  the  Je- 
suit faced  so  many  dangers,  and  endured 
so  much  toil  and  suffering,  to  preach  the 
doctrines  of  his  religion,  satisfied  him  at 
once  of  the  uprightness  and  sincerity  of 
his  motives.    The  skill  and  knowledge  of 


\ 


■  •V 


OR  THE  msaiaifABY. 


161 


the  Frenchman  proved  to  him  that  he  was 
no  ordinary  man,  and  he  inclined  to  be> 
lieve  even  the  wonderful  tidings  he  nvh 
nounced.  Yet  doubts  met  him  at  every 
point  as  he  thought  over  the  strange  things 
he  had  been  told.  When,  therefore,  the 
Jesuit  entered  the  tent  on  the  following 
day,  he  questioned  him :  mm^mmmw 

"Blackgown,  you  tell  me  that  the  Sa- 
viour died  and  was  buried,  and  that  on  the 
third  day  he  arose  again  from  the  dead. 
I  have  never  seen  the  dead  arise — how  can 
I  believe  it  V 


•■4;?^v  y^sm^'-^'^m^^m 


"My  son,  it  would  have  been  no  proof 
of  his  divinity  if  rising  from  the  dead 
had  been  an  ordinary  occurrence.  But 
he  is  God.  He  it  was  who  made  the  law 
that  all  men  should  die,  and  that  law  he 
could  suspend  or  alter.  As  man  he  died;  as 
God-man  he  arose.  The  people  of  thy  tribe 
believe  that  the  spirits  of  the  departed  do 
not  die ;  can  not  the  God  who  preserves 
the  spirit  preserve  also  the  body,  and  give 


152 


.11    PfiBfi  JKAH^ 


Ji 


it  back  to  life  ?  Can  he  not  at  a  word  bid 
the  tomb  to  open^  and  the  lifeless  corpse 
to  live  and  breathe  again  ?  Ah,  my  son  f 
there  are  no  laws  to  bind  the  Omnipotent 
God  but  the  laws  of  his  own  mercy  and 
justice  and  eternal  providence.  He  has 
been  pleased  to  listen  to  the  prayer  of  his 
humble  followers  upon  this  earth,  and  has 
for  them  wrought  miracles  almost  equally 
wonderful.  The  Blessed  Xavier,  on  the 
shore  of  the  far  east,  knelt  and  prayed, 
and  the  ear  of  the  Almighty  was  inclined 
towards  him,  and  when  the  holy  priest 
stretched  forth  his  hand,  and  called  upon 
the  dead  to  come  forth  from  his  silent 
grave,  the  lifeless  sprang  up  into  strength 
and  health  and  beauty.'^  '  ^  ■-"  ^ » ' 
^. A  deep^  exclamation  of  surprise  broke 
from  the  lipsof  theattentive  Indian,  whilst 
the  women  of  the  family  gathered  nearer 
to  bear  the  words  of  the  animated  speaker. 
Warmed  with  a  holy  zeal,  thejesuitcon-^ 
tinned  in  a  clear  firm  voice  mm,  ■im00 


-;  >  ■ ' 


OR   THC   MIS8I01IARY. 


15S 


'^  The  resurrection  of  the  Saviour  from 
the  dead  was  to  be  the  final  seal  of  salva* 
tion ;  it  was  to  open  the  way  for  us  from 
the  tomb  to  heaven  !^'  ^  »»- »K'.irf.*w^   .1,,  , 

Then  Father  Laval  went  on  to  tell  how, 
ages  before  his  coming,  the  mode  of  his 
birth,  his  suffering,  the  miracles  which  he 
was  to  perform,  his  passion  and  his  death 
had  been  foretold,  and  how  exactly  they 
had  been  accomplished;  and  he  summed 
up  all  the  evidences  of  Christianity,  while 
the  young  warrior  listened  attentively, 
often  bowing  his  head  in  token  of  assent. 

"Yes,  ii  must  be  true,^*  he  said  at 
length,  after  the  Jesuit  had  concluded: 
"Kiskepila  must  believe."      c^?»>ir  '^m^'tm' 

Thus  Father  Laval  sought  every  ap- 
portunity  to  impress  upon  the  mind  of  the 
young  warrior  the  truths  of  Christianity, 
and  the  relation  which  existed  between 
them  made  the  young  Iroquois  listen  with^ 
a  docility  unexampled  among  that  fierce 
race.    Whatever  the  young  man  learned 

11 


154 


^^<  PERE  JEAH^ 


ii- 


he  was  sure  to  communicate  to  Morning 
Flower^  M^ ho  soon  began  to  seek  occasions 
of  conversing  with  the  priest,  and  listened 
with  admiration  to  his  accounts  of  the 
splendor  of  the  cities  of  France,  and  the 
numlier  of  their  inhabitants,  things  like 
th^  wonders  of  fairy  tales  to  her  unso- 
phisticated imagination.  With  these  ac- 
counts the  priest  always  mingled  descrip- 
tions of  the  splendid  churches  and  of  the 
gorgeous  ceremonial,  of  the  sacred  rites 
performed  within  them,  to  the  honor  and 
glory  of  God,  and  explained  them  to  the 
maiden  as  well  as  he  could  in  his  imper- 
fect knowledge  of  the  language.  Then, 
leaving  these  subjects,  he  would  converse 
upon  the  moral  relations  of  Christian  so- 
eidty,  instruct  her  in  the  duties  of  woman, 
and  teaoh  her  the  obligations  of  religion, 
the  sanctity  of  marriage,  and  the  beauty 
atid  holiness  of  purity  of  heart  and  body. 
M(»rning  Flower  drank  in  his  words^  and 
b^  them  in  her  heart.    But  this  was  the 


OR  TH£   MISSIONARY. 


155 


work  of  days.  In  the  meanwhile  the 
village  was  filled  with  various  accounts  of 
the  conversations  which  the  priest  had 
held  in  the  tent  of  Kiodego — how  he  had 
spoken  of  wonderful  and  mysterious 
things^  and  how  he  had  said  that  th^ 
fathers  of  the  blackgown^  id  times  not 
long  gone  by,  had  called  the  dead  from 
their  tombs.  These  reports,  increased 
and  distorted  as  they  passed  from  moiith 
to  mouth,  cast  a  species  of  awe  around 
the  priest  in  the  eyes  of  many.  He  began 
to  be  looked  upon  as  a  magician  or  medi- 
cine more  powerful  than  their  own.  Yet, 
unconscious  of  all  this,  the  humble  Jesuit 
pursued  his  labors  with  increasing  as- 
siduity. 


'^iii*.      JP 


J  ....        J    .  r-. "'  ■     •  .*   i;         '  '    "■>  '  j/{'-       '   .■       ",  ■ 


I   '  \  ;#-+*H«-f 


''«' WFMI  ^ 


1^V!MrH|^'^*^/f 


-,.  %  'fihm^ 


f 


z^m     ii^ii      •:?f 


,a: 


t 


The  Council. 

[VERY  night  Father  Laval  and 
the  novice  had  been  bound  and 
eonfined  with  the  other  prisoners  in  the 
lodge.  In  the  meanwhile  Rene  Bourdoise 
began  to  gain  strength^  for  Morning  Flow- 
er^ compassionating  bis  sufferings,  extend- 
ed her  kindness  towards  him^  and  supplied 
him^  as  well  as  Father  Laval^  with  food, 
in  addition  to  that  distributed  by  their 
captors.  A  little  gentle  exercise,  and  hours 
of  rest  assisted  nature  wonderfully  in  her 
recuperative  efforts :  but  although  the  two 
Frenchmen  recruited  each  day  in  health, 
they  were  still  subject  to  all  the  petulant 
cruelty  of  the  Iroquois.    Still  it  was  only 


: L 


PERE  JEAN. 


157 


that  common  torture  which  every  cap- 
tive was  made  to  endure^  and  though  great 
in  itself^  dwindled  away  into  littleness 
when  met  by  their  boundless  patience  and 
tranquillity  of  heart.    '?  i    ??      «  f  *  i^ 

A  week  had  passed,  but  there  seemed 
to  be  no  disposition  on  the  part  of  the 
Mohawk  warriors  to  leave  their  village 
even  upon  a  hunting  expedition.  It  was 
the  corn  moon^  and  plenty  surrounded 
them — and  the  Indian  is  always  satisfied 
if  the  present  moment  be  provided  for. 
They  were  awaiting  the  return  of  the 
runners  with  the  fire-water  from  Port  Or- 
ange. Towards  the  evening  of  the  sixth 
day  these  messengers  came  back  unex- 
pectedly to  the  village,  having  met  a 
Dutch  trader  some  days*  journey  from  the 
village,  and  purchased  from  him  the  ne- 
cessary supply.  It  was  now  determined 
by  the  braves  that  a  council  should  be 
held  on  the  following  day  to  decide  upon 
the  fate  of  the  prisoners ;  and  a  portion 


J  ,  —I-  y^'.^  r  ■'■■*   ^.i^ 


158 


'     P£R£  J£AN« 


of  the  fire-water  was  set  aside  for  the  ca 
rousings  which  would  follow  upon  such 
a  proceeding.  A  runner  was  therefore  at 
once  despatched  to  the  village  which  had 
joined  in  the  war  party,  inviting  the  pre- 
sence of  a  deputation  to  assist  at  the 
council. -"^^"^  '■'•■■'  ^'^  ^-'-'^  ..•:.'->;<i.;...  --,>?  ...-•:   >.-. 

Father  Laval,  who  had  already  retired 
to  the  council  lodge,  watched  these  pro- 
ceedings with  a  troubled  eye;  he  saw 
bustle  and  preparation,  but  was  unable  to 
conceive  its  object.  Leloup  sat  coldly 
watching  the  movements  of  the  Iroquois, 
knowing  too  well  what  was  likely  to  en- 
sue. The  Jesuit  at  length  turned  an  in- 
quiring eye  upon  him,  and  questioned 
him:     .    ^-^'^^   .'^■'^i^c -^?  -ti.    o^    ^.h^m^^m^ 

*' What  is  the  cause  of  all  this  commo- 
tion, tHy  son  y  i"  '":^#-,j<   jfii/'..^    .j..U-»-*^  ^-'if^uuit 

^  '^  Fire-water !  ^^  said  Leloup,  senten- 
tiously.  "  The  runners  have  come  back 
from  the  traders,  and  the  Mohawk  will  be 
crazy  to-night — he  will  kill  if  he  can." 


OR  THE  MISStOKAIiY* 


150 


"  If  he  can  ? — alas !  there  is  nothing  to 
prevent  him;  then,  my  children,  we 
must  look  upon  death  as  immediately  be^ 
fore  us,  and  be  ready  to  meet  him  like 
Christian  men!  "    '    , 


J  ■  *-^yi:'i   umii   tm'H'-J'- 


*'  Good  !  '*  said  Leloup  emphatically, 
"but  they  will  not  all  drink— they  will 
cast  lots,  who  shall  be  guard-^-wiat/  kill, 
though.    It  is  good  to  be  ready !  ^'       ''**'** 

At  length  the  council  lodge  was  closed 
up  and  fastened  firmly,  while  it  was  evi-* 
dent  to  the  prisoners  that  a  double  guard 
was  placed  over  them,  to  protect  them 
from  any  attempts  which  might  be  made 
against  them  by  the  intoxicated  Indians 
in  the  fury  of  their  orgies.  The  noise 
without  began  to  increase^  and  soon  be^ 
came  uproarious.  The  greater  portion 
of  the  intoxicating  liquid  had  been  care-* 
fully  cr^ncealed  in  order  that  it  might  be 
preserved  for  the  second  festival,  in  pur-^ 
suance  of  the  plan  adopted.  The  intoxi^ 
cation,  therefore,  of  the  braves,  scarcely 


160 


rm  P£R£  jfiANyf  u-f^ 


reached  to  that  point  of  frenzy  when  the 
whole  passion  of  the  savage  is  aroused 
and  nothing  but  blood  will  satisfy  him. 
Yet  now  and  thei.  an  Indian,  more  ex- 
cited than  the  rest,  would  approach  the 
lodge  with  reeling  step,  but  flashing  eye, 
and  endeavor  to  force  bis  way  to  the  pris- 
oners; but  the  strong  guard,  at  the  en- 
trance, always  baffled  their  attempts,  and 
drove  off  the  assailants  with  good  hu- 
mored blows  and  laughter.  As  the  arms 
of  the  drinkers  had  been  taken  from  them 
little  danger  was  to  be  apprehended  from 
them,  unless  they  should  succeed  in  ob- 
taining them  again.  Night  came  on,  and 
by  the  light  of  the  fires  the  revellers  car- 
ried on  their  orgies.  The  blaze  falling 
on  the  front  of  the  council  lodge,  cast  the 
rear  and  the  tents  behind  it  into  a  dark 
shadow.  Most  of  the  inhabitants  had 
gathered  in  the  open  space,  and  were  oc- 
cupied in  observing  the  mad  antics  of  the 
drunken  Indians.    At  length,  while  the 


•■Vi:fJ:JIC" 


OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 


161 


carousing  was  at  its  height^  a  figure  slow- 
ly emerged  from  the  fidge  of  the  forest, 
and  keeping  in  the  darkest  shadows,  out- 
stretched upon  the  ground,  coiled  along 
slowly  and  cautiously  towards  the  lodge. 
There  it  rolled  up  close  beside  the  lower 
logs  of  the  rude  building,  and  even  to  a 
searching  eye  was  almost  indistinguisha- 
ble from  them.  Thus  it  lay  for  some 
timemotioL^iess.  Leloup  had  just  stretched 
himself  upon  the  hard  floor,  when  he 
heard  a  low  sound  like  the  ticking  of  an 
insect  in  the  log  near  his  head.  It  perse- 
vered in  a  singular  manner,  and  he  an- 
swered it  with  a  like  sound. -^M%|t^|^l# 

"Huron!  '^  said  a  voice  very  low,  but 
perfectly  distinct — reaching  no  other  ear 
but  that  of  the  prostrate  warrior.  ^^*ifW 

"  Leloup !  ^^  replied  the  other,  giving 
his  name.' ^""^* '^■'"■'■'■"""^"-"   ""  .iia#^l^ili|i^ 


"Good!"  said  the  othet  voice,  whidh 

theHuron  recognised  as  that  of  Ahasistari. 

"Council  to-night?  "  asked  the  chief, 

after  a  pause.   ■     »^y«.:*Kii  >v\?>u  irmn  mm^* 


ifk. 


162 


'in.  PEAJS  JEAN^ 


o 


-^"  No,  to-morrow!  "  said  Leioup.    -^ 
fit^Is  the  blackgown  strong  enough  lo 

travel  to  the  river?  ^^-^t^if.fi.ivmmt-^'^i,  .  c : 
^VYes !  but  the  Mohawk  is  quick  and 

WaiCniUl*        .i'j.f^Wfv:-    V?*     '■■i;4.i4T    ^       7-?s-vt  -v'r-A!'^'"'^ 

ffc'^Can  the  Huron  escape  fVora  the 
lodge  with  the  help  of  Ahasistari  ?'^  3 
*« "There  is  aa  opening  above,  but  all  are 
bound  hand  %nd  foot."  -  >^  > 
^4%flThe  knife  of  Ahasistari  will  sever  the 
cord" — a  silence  ensued^  during  which 
the  chief  was  busily  occupied  in  remov- 
ing a  block,  which  filled  up  the  space  be- 
tween two  of  the  logs—"  let  Leioup  lay 
close,  so  that  the  knife  may  cut  his  cord,'' 
said  Ahasistari,  as  the  block  began  to 
yield  to  his  efforts.  At  this  moment  two 
braves  of  the  guard,  fearful  that  some  of 
the  carousers  might  endeavor  to  do  mis- 
chief  through  an  opening  in  the  rear^ 
passed  around  the  lodge  to  examine  it. 
They  conversed  as  they  went  along,  and 
the  engrossing  topic  of  the  village  expec^ 
tation  filled  their  minds. 


%& 


mw  B't^^' 


OR  1^H£   MISSIONARY. 


163 


"  The  pale  face  is  a  great  medicine," 
said  one  5  "  the  braves  of  the  tribe  will 
not  .^;^tare  hioi  in  the  council-^for  he  will 
blight  the  coming  harvest,  and  cast  a 
spell  on  the  hunting  grounds."         ^wm* 

"The  big  Huron  will  be  tortured," 
said  the  other.  Jvar'  ''    ■    -'^.ap  '  r  t-t^^i-iji^ 

"Yes!  no  one  will  adopt  them,  and 
they  must  be  tortured,  the  dogs!"        §# 

"  The  council  will  decide  to-morrow— 
Kiohba  wishes  all  to  be  tortured.  None 
know  the  wishes  of  Kiodego,  and  the 
war  chief  is  silent."* 


*  «"?: 


-i<iMtmi'-i"-   •*irii$:^«fteMi/ ' 


The  two  Mohawks  now  stood  for  a 
moment  almost  touching  Ahasistari,  who 
lay  close  to  the  side  of  the  lodge,  motion- 
less as  the  wood  itself.  From  their  coat 
versation  the  chief  gathered  that  the  coUfi'^ 
cil  was  looked  to  with  great  anxiety,  as 
there  was  a  diversity  of  opinion  with 
regard  to  the  fate  of  the  Jesuit.  At  this 
moment  a  wild  yell  interrupted  the  two 
Mohawks,  and  drew  them  away.    The 


164 


iU^FERE  JEAK, 


carousers  having  exhausted  the  liquor  set 
out  for  them^  searched  for  the  remainder, 
and  having  found  it,  overpowered  the 
guard  and  bore  it  off.  The  Huron  chief 
renewed  his  efforts  •  with  more  hardihood^ 
when  he  was  again  interrupted.  The 
Indians  in  charge  of  the  lodge  had  left  it 
unprotected,  and  hastened  to  the  assistance 
of  their  companions.  Several  of  the  half 
intoxicated  Mohawks  discovered  this^  and 
rushed  towards  the  lodge  in  a  body,  deter- 
mined to  sacrifice  the  prisoners  upon  the 
instant.  The  old  women  had  obtained 
some  of  the  rum,  and  now,  intoxicated, 
they  joined  furiously  in  the  revels,  till  the 
open  space  around  the  fires  presented  a 
scene  worthy  of  pandemonium.  The  light 
of  the  fires,  as  they  stirred  and  tossed  up 
the  brands,  flashed  fitfully  upon  the  crowds 
of  reeling  wretches,  shrieking  in  the  mad- 
ness of  inebriety.  Here  were  groups 
contending  with  the  guards  for  the  last 
remnants  of  the  fire-water.    There  parties 


OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 


165 


of  the  revellers  fought  and  struggled  in 
harmless  fury  among  themselves.  The 
grave  and  solemn  Indian  warrior,  trans- 
formed into  a  wallowing  brute;  some 
sat,  like  grinning  idiots,  gazing  with 
meaningless  faces  into  the  fires,  whose 
glare  played  wildly  over  iheir  crouch- 
ing figures — whilst,  fiercest  of  all,  came 
on  towards  the  lodge,  the  few  bent 
on  murder.  They  had  reached  the  open- 
ing, no  guards  were  there;  the  fasten- 
ings were  yielding  to  their  hands.  At  that 
moment  a  powerful  figure  rose  up,  as  it 
were  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  mingled 
with  them.  Two  heavy  blows  from  his 
stalwart  arm  brought  the  foremost  of  the 
rioters  to  the  ground ;  the  rest  fell  over 
them  shouting  madly.  The  figure  drew 
back  behind  the  corner  of  the  lodg?,  for 
the  cries  of  the  party  had  attracted  the 
guard,  who  ran  in  strength  to  the  spot, 
and  having  relieved  the  prisoners  from 
danger,  which  was  imminent,  remained 


-rf7¥-"1-T,    V'.-?|'-'        ."..■ 


166 


.tr.   PERE  JEAN^ 


''A 


doubljT  watchful  at  their  position.    In  a 
moment  more  Ahasistari  gained  the  edge 
of  the  forest  and  stood  awaiting  the  result. 
All  hope  of  escape  for  that  night  was 
cut  off.    Some  of  the  guards  took  their 
position  within  the  lodge,  while  others  de- 
stroyed the  rum  that  still  remained,  as  the 
only  means  of  quieting  the  tumult;  and 
one  by  one  the  revellers  fell  off  into  the 
deep  sleep  of  intoxication.        .vfcnmtrn^ 
ft  Ahasistari  returned  to  his  hiding  place 
among  the  rocks,  satisfied  that  no  further 
harm  would  befall  the  prisoners  until  the 
council  should   decide  upon  their  fate. 
Of  the  doom  of  Father  Laval  and  Leloup 
he  felt  little  doubt,  and   he  could   de- 
lay no  longer  in  the  attempt  at  rescue, 
but  must  at  length  cast  all  his  hope  upon 
the  hazard  of  the  die.    He  must  win  all 
or  lose  all.    As  duickfoot  did  not  return, 
he  concluded  that  he  must  have  fallen  in 
with  Watook,  and  that  they  awaited  his 
commands  ai  the  appointed  spm.    It  was 


OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 


167 


now  necessary  to  despatch  the  remaining 
Huron  instantly  to  bring  up  these  war*- 
riors,  and,  it  would  even  then  occupy 
them  until  the  evening  of  the  next  day  to 
reach  the  rocky  hiding  place  of  their 
chief.  The  Huron  set  out,  and  Ahasis- 
tari  was  left  alone.  He  knelt  and  prayed. 
Father  Laval  remained  some  time  ab- 
sorbed in  prayer  after  all  the  sounds 
without  had  died  away.  Of  a  strong  and 
enduring  frame,  and  used  to  hardships, 
he  had  already  recovered  from  the  effects 
of  the  long  and  painful  march  through 
the  forest,  while  the  novice,  though  much 
improved,  still*  suffered  severely  from  his 
labors.  The  Hurons,  all  along,  aware 
that  their  chief  was  hovering  about  themy 
knew  that  any  attempt  at  rescue  was  of 
too  doubtiul  result  for  them  to  rest  a 
hope  upon,  and  prepared  themselves  still 
more^  every  hour,  for  that  final  and  fatal 
trial  which  impended  over  them.  At 
length  ihey  gave  themselves  up  to  arlum- 


168 


T)     PERE   JEAN,       n 


ber  with  cheerful  hearts,  trusting  in  the 
goodness  and  mercy  of  God.  *  *u\«..ii 
With  morning  began  the  preparations 
for  the  council. '  The  sullen  countenances 
of  those  who  had  shared  over  night  in  the 
debauch,  boded  ill  for  the  prisoners.  Many 
a  scowling  and  savage  look  was  cast 
upon  them.  A  little  after  noon  came  the 
deputation  from  the  neighboring  village : 
it  was  small,  composed  of  but  two  or 
three  braves^  the  greater  portion  of  the 
successful  warriors  having  gone  out  with 
their  share  of  the  plunder  towards  Fort 
Orange  to  exchange  it  for  powder,  lead, 
rum,  and  other  articles  of  traffic.  The 
deputies  were  received  with  much  pomp 
and  ceremony^  and  regaled  with  the  best 
fare  that  the  village  contained.  They 
were  then  conducted  to  the  council  lodge, 
where  the  proceedings  were  opened  with 
great  state  and  solemnity.  The  elder  and 
most  distinguished  braves  formed  them- 
selves in,  a  circle  in  the  centre  of  the. 


OR   THE   MISSIONARY. 


169 


lods;e ;  beyond  them  sat  the  less  notable 
of  the  tribe.  Each  one^  as  he  entered, 
took  his  seat  in  order ;  profound  silence 
reigned  throughout  the  assemblage.  At 
length  the  old  chief  arrived— -the  calumet 
was  passed  around — and,  at  a  sign  from 
Kiodego,  as  a  mark  of  honor,  the  brave 
who  had  commanded  the  successful  war- 
posts  arose  to  address  them.  His  voice, 
at  first  low,  swelled  out  as  he  proceeded, 
and  his  gesture  became  animated  and 
picturesque.  A  robe  of  light  skins  was 
fastened  around  his  waist  and  fell  below 
his  thigh ;  a  collar,  of  the  claws  of  the 
wild  bear,  hung  around  his  neck;  a 
snake  skin  encircled  his  arm,  and  the 
feathers  of  the  wild  eagle  adorned  his 
head.  His  face  was  hideously  painted. 
Streaks  of  black  and  red  were  drawn 
from  his  ears  towarda  his  mouth,  while 
a  broad  band  of  Vermillion  extended 
across  his  forehead  and  over  his  eye^ 
At  he  spoke  he  pointed  towards  the 
12 


170 


PERE  JEAN, 


prisoners,  and  at  length  singled  out  the 

Jesuit. '^■'■^'j^^''^"''    *.'^ni(?i>  #:?«**«;i^.  ■    *-hHi^     ^Hf 

*^'**  Why  has  he  come  from  his  far  land, 
firom  the  bones  of  his  fathers,  across  the 
gr^at  water,  to  the  hunting  grounds  of  the 
red  men  ?  His  people  have  settled  down 
among  our  brothers  in  the  north,  and  lo ! 
they  have  made  them  women!  They 
have  turned  the  Hurons  to  dogs,  made 
them  forsake  the  Great  Spirit,  and  joia 
with  the  pale  face  in  battle  against  their 
own  kind  and  color !  The  blackrobe  is  a 
medicine ;  he  speaks,  and  warriors  weep ; 
the  Hurons  are  his  slaves ;  he  is  a  great 
medicine.  What  shall  be  the  fate  of  the 
paleface?''    ^  «-     .  .  ...^      ..„  .1. 

,.^-  The  chief  sat  down,  and  a  silence  of  a 
few  minutes'  duration  ensued.  It  was 
broken  at  length  by  a  warrior,  who  said : 
-^  "  Let  him  die !  Eiohba's  voice  is  that 
the  pale  face  die  at  the  stake.  His  en- 
chantments have  destroyed  the  Hurons, 

have  drivei:  away  the  buffalo  and  bound- 

■  -„ ,       ,  -  ' .'".  j&i '  '  * 


OR  TH£  MISSIONARY. 


171 


ing  deer.  His  people  have  swept  down 
the  beautiful  forests  on  the  great  river. 
Kiohba  has  seen  him  make  that  sign  upon 
tiS  forehead^  which  our  white  brothers 
of  Fort  Orange  tell  us  is  a  folly  and  a 
wickedness — ^a  sorcery.  If  the  chiefs 
spare  the  pale  face^  he  will  soften  the 
hearts  of  the  Iroquois  and  weaken  their 
arms  in  battle^  and  they  will  fall  before 
his  people^  and  become  slaves^  like  the 
Hurons.    The  pale  ftice  must  die!''  -»  ■* 

Several  of  the  warriors  nodded  their 
heads  in  silent  approval  of  the  speech  of 
the  brave.     '  .         ^  * 

*'Let  us  keep  the  great  medicine,'^ 
said  one  who  had  not  been  of  the  war 
party^  but  who  had  listened  with  wonder 
to  the  reported  conversions  of  the  priest* 
'^  Let  us  keep  him  in  the  tribe.  Let  us 
make  him  our  brother^  and  give  him  the 
first  ripe  corn  and  the  fattest  of  the  deer ! 
Let  us  build  him  a  lodge^  and  his  heart  will 
love  the  Mohawk  people^  he  will  strength- 
en their  arms  and  protect  their  villages !'' 


172 


PE&E  JEJlK, 


A  smile  of  scorn  played  upon  the  lips 
of  Kiohba^  as  he  replied :  "  My  brother  is 
a  cunning  counsellor;  he  is  wise  and 
brave  at  the  council  fire !  Does  he  need 
a  great  medicine  to  strengthen  his  cour- 
age? Kiohba  fears  not  the  medicine. 
He  has  met  the  Huron  and  the  French  in 
battle.    The  pale  face  must  die!''      * 

Other  warriors  now  arose,  some  es- 
pousing one  side  and  some  the  other.  The 
dispute  grew  warm,  when  Kiod^go  in- 
terposed: 

"  My  brothers !''  he  said,  "  it  has  been 
de^landed,  why  the  blackrobe  came  into 
ou  'and.  and  why  he  goes  far  into  the 
wilderness  with  the  Hurons,  scattering 
his  spells  upon  his  path.  Let  the  pale 
face  answer !  Unbind  him,  and  lead  him 
forward."  A  young  warrior  hastened  to 
release  the  Jesuit,  and  assisted  him  into 
the  circle.  ^^'^^-^-'^  ^^'^  ^  ^^^    ■  - —  ■ 

^^' Speak,  Tulhasaga!"  said    the  old 
chief  coldly,  as  if  he  bad  m  yet  heard 


>»(.;    i:^^ 


■  :.m 


OR  TH'?   MISSIONARY. 


173 


nothing  from  the  priest  concerning  the 
object  of  his  mission.  "Speak!  Why 
comest  thou  to  our  landl  What  dost 
thou  seek?"  ...  ,^^ 

Father  Laval  bowed  his  head  for  a  mo- 
ment in  prayer,  and  then  replied : 

"  Chief,  I  seek  souls ;  I  came  to  do  the 
work  of  my  Master;  I  came  to  preach 
another  faith  in  this  land,  to  teach  and 
instruct  the  ignorant.  My  mission  is  one 
of  peace ;  it  is  with  the  souls  of  men,  and 
not  their  bodies.  I  would  teach  them  to 
calm  their  passions,  to  cast  out  the  spirit 
of  evil  from  their  hearts  ;  to  walk  in  the 
path  of  justice  and  of  virtue.  I  came  over 
the  stormy  waters  to  bear  the  tidings  of 
the  Gospel  to  the  heathen,  and  \o  plant 
the  holy  cross  in  the  wilderness.  You 
abk,  with  what  object  I  was  going  far  into 
the  west.  I  was  about  to  seek  new  con- 
verts to  the  cross.  But,  chief," — and  the 
voice  of  the  missionary  swelled  out  into 
its  fullest  and  most  musical  tones,  entran- 


174 


PBRfi  JEAN^ 


cing  the  ear  of  the  savage.  His  form  was 
lifted  up^  and  his  hands  outstretched  be- 
fore him.  '^  But,  chief,  the  Great  Spirit, 
in  his  wisdom,  has  willed  it  otherwise. 
Prom  my  path  to  the  Huron  country  he 
has  turned  ray  steps  towards  the  Mohawk 
villages — and  here,  O  chief,  in  captivity, 
submissive  to  the  will  of  my  divine  Mas- 
ter, I  preach  Christ  to  the  Iroquois  5  I 
preach  Christ  crucified;  listen  to  me!" 
Deep  exclamations  broke  from  the  aston- 
ished council,  but  they  awaited  in  pa- 
tience. ^^You  are  in  darkness,  I  bring 
you  light;  receive  it!"  And  he  told 
them  how  God  had  created  the  world, 
and  man  the  lord  of  all ;  of  the  fall ;  of 
the  redemption ;  of  the  new  Gospel ;  of 
the  commission  to  his  apostles  and  their 
successors,  to  go  forth  and  ^' teach  all 
nations,  baptizing  them  in  the  name  of  the 
Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  j"  how  that  commission  had  been 
sealed  by  miracles;  how  the  blind  saw, 


?•! 


I 


OR  THE   MISSIOlfARr. 


175 


the  lame  walked,  and  the  dead  were  raised 
to  life  again.  And  then  he  painted  be- 
fore their  eyes^  in  glowing  colors,  the 
joys  of  heaven  which  were  reserved  for 
those  who  should  believe  in  him,  and  love 
and  serve  him,  and  the  fearful  torments 
which  the  all-just  God  destined  for  those 
who  should  reject  and  disobey  his  com- 
mands. A  gleam  of  wild  joy  broke  from 
the  eyes  of  the  Hurons,  as  they  looked 
upon  the  astonished  Mohawks,  while  the 
Jesuit  continued :  "  This  is  the  religion 
which  I  preachy  these  are  the  glad 
tidings  which  I  bring  you;  and  it  is  to 
announce  this  Gospel  to  the  children  of 
the  wilderness  that  I  have  come  from  the 
land  of  the  east.  The  Great  Spirit  speaks 
it  to  you  by  my  mouth ;  listen,  and  be- 
lieve.        ,^,     '„.,;::^i,.  ^^h-.    ....       :„•:,    -  ,rr*;  5i  .M^;  Jit.;i,i|. 

Father  Laval  concluded,  and  silence 
reigned  for  a  time  throughout  the  lodge. 
At  length  Kiodego  addressed  bim : 
^i'^My  brother  has  spoken  well,  he  is 


176 


FfiR£  JEAN, 


wise !    But  he  tells  a  strange  tale,  how 
shall  we  believe  him?" 
'    *^He  speaks  with  a  forked  tongue," 
said  Kiohba  ;  '*  he  is  a  liar!" 

'*  We  are  satisfied  wiih  our  own  God," 
exciaimed  another — "  the  war-god — Wa- 
cor^jah.  The  God  of  the  great  medicine 
bm  made  cowards  of  the  Hurons ;  the 
Go '  of  the  Mohawks  strengthens  the 
arms  of  his  children  in  battle.  The  Mo- 
hawks want  not  the  God  of  the  pale  face." 
And  then  the  clamor  for  his  death  became 
louder,  while  the  advocates,  not  of  mercy, 
but  of  delay  for  expedieL  cy,  were  silenced. 
The  fate  of  the  good  priest  seemed  al- 
ready sealed.  Without  further  delay,  a 
Mohawk  approached  him,  and,  at  a  signal 
from  the  chief,  coLpeiied  him  to  kneel, 
and  began  to  paint  his  head  and  face. 
Then  a  shout  of  joy  broke  from  the  crowd 
without  5  for  it  was  the  mark  of  death 
upon  the  victim,  and  they  revelled  al- 
ready in  anticipation  of  the  torture.     At 


OR  THE   MISSIOITART. 


177 


that  moment  a  slight  movement  was  made 
in  the  crowd  around  the  door ;  it  swayed 
forward  and  backward^  and  then  gave 
way,  leaving  an  opening  into  the  centre 
of  the  circle.  Leaning  upon  a  warrior, 
Kiskepila^  weak  and  tottering,  with  his 
bandages  still  upon  his  wounds,  pressed 
forward  through  the  passage.  The  eye 
of  the  young  chief  fell  upon  the  group  in 
the  centre.  An  exclamation  burst  from 
his  lips.  With  the  mighty  energy  of  a 
strong  spirit  he  rose  from  the  arm  that 
supported  his  weak  form  and  strode  alone 
into  the  circle.  With  one  hand  he  cast 
aside  the  Mohawk;  the  other  he  rested 
upon  the  brow  of  the  priest.  A  death-like 
stillness  reigned  upon  the  scene;  not  a 
hand  was  raised  to  arrest  his  course ;  not 
a  voice  was  uplifted  against  him.  Sur- 
prise held  all  men  silent,  while  the  flash- 
ing eye  of  the  young  warrior  turned  from 
face  to  face.  "Kiskepila  is  a  chief,'' 
said  the  young  eagle  of  his  tribe,  "  who 


3l^^ 


178 


PERfi  JEAir^ 


u 


will  oppose  him?  The  Hurons  have 
fled  before  the  arm  of  Eiskepila!  Shall 
he  have  no  voice  in  the^  councils  of  the 
tribe?"  And  he  placed  the  other  hand 
above  the  head  of  the  kneeling  priest. 
"Shall  he  be  silent  when  the  boaster 
is  heard?"  and  he  pointed  to  Kiohba. 
'^Kiskepila  asks  the  chiefs  and  braves  to 
spare  the  pale  face."  He  looked  around 
for  a  reply — there  was  none.  At  length 
Kiohba  said  coldly : 

"  The  chiefs  and  braves  have  spoken ; 
the  pale  face  must  die.  See !  the  death 
paint  is  upon  his  brow." 

With  a  look  of  scorn  the  young  man 
turned  away  from  the  speaker  and  glanced 
once  more  around  the  circle.  The  fea- 
tures of  the  stern  Mohawks  were  un- 
moved; they  were  silent.  Kiohba  was 
triumphing. 

My  brothers!"  said  Kiskepila^  his 


»:? 


eye  lighting  up  again  with  indignation^ 
'^my  brothers,  Kiskepila  was  wounded 


OR  THE  MISSIONARY. 


179 


and  fainting^  and  dying  upon  the  field  of 
battle ;  and  the  pale  face  bathed  his  lips 
and  bound  his  wounds.  Kiskepila  oweid 
a  life  to  the  pale  face,  and  he  will  repay 
it.  Let  Kiohba  show  the  mark  of  a  Huron 
on  his  breast^  or  the  scalp  of  a  foe  at  his 
girdle.^'  ""■  ^  "^^^.'-^    ■■     ---r-  ^'^v  \    .,,:.t 

The  Indian  replied  not.  The  eyes  of 
the  old  men  turned  upon  the  Jesuit,  and, 
with  an  exclamation  of  wonder,  they 
looked  to  the  chief  of  the  war  party,  for 
confirmation  of  a  story  to  them  so  strange. 

^^  The  words  of  the  young  eagle  are 
true,"  he  said ;  ^^  the  pale  face  bound  up 
the  wounds  of  Kiskepila ;  he  saved  his 
life.  The  blackrobe  was  a  dove  upon  the 
field  of  battle — a  dove  among  the  eagles." 

Silence  again  ensued.  The  Jesuit, 
wrapped  in  prayer,  scarce  heeded  the 
scene  around  him  i  but  ever  and  anon  the 
bright  eye  of  Leloup  would  gleam  upon 
him,  as,  with  head  bent  forward,  the 
Huron  listened,  with  interest,  to  the 
words  of  the  young  Mohawk  chief. 


180 


PfiRE  JEANj 


i») 


"The  council  have  spoken  I"  Emd 
Kiohba  again,  fearful  that  a  change  might 
take  place  in  the  opinions  of  the  warriors, 
some  of  whom  seemed  to  lean  towards 
the  young  chief;  '*  the  council  have 
spoken;  the  pale  face  must  die.  It  is 
right ;  for  the  spells  of  the  blackrobe  are 
upon  the  heart  of  Kiskepila ;  he  has  made 
a  Huron  of  the  Mohawk.'' 

"  You  lie,  dog!"  exclaimed  the  young 
chief,  fiercely. 

"  The  tongue  of  Eaohba  is  not  forked/' 
said  the  oiher^  coldly,  feeling  the  ad- 
vantage which  he  was  gaining,  through 
the  generous  impetuosity  of  his  opponent. 
"  Let  the  chiefs  look :  Kiskepila  could 
not  walk  alone  to  the  council  lodge ;  and 
see !  he  stands,  as  if  he  had  no  wounds 
upon  him ;  it  is  the  spell  of  the  pale  face 
medicine.  The  blackrobe  must  die,  or 
the  warriors  will  become  women !" 

The  old  men  shook  their  heads,  as  they 
looked  upon  the  upright  and  noble  figure 

aM-  £S4itf  *^*rft"l^  fhv^,- 


.iii»»  ^-  >^, 


OR  THK    MISSIONARY. 


181 


79 


3  young 

brked," 

the  ad- 

hrough 

ponent 

I  could 

b;  and 

rounds 

le  face 

lie,  or 
f 

s  they 
figure 


of  the  young  brave,  while  the  bandages 
were  still  fresh,  as  it  were,  upon  deep 
and  dangerous  wounds.  It  was  the  en- 
ergy of  the  spirit,  not  of  the  flesh,  that 
sustained  the  chief.  The  eves  of  Kin' 
gleamed  with  joy,  as  he  saw  the  ini 
sion  he  had  made.  The  young  man  a^axu 
spoke,  but  in  a  lower  and  sterner  tone : 

'^  Kiskepila  owes  the  pale  face  a  life ; 
he  shall  not  die!  Kiskepila  will  adopt 
him  as  his  brother,  in  place  of  him  who 
is  dead.  He  demands  the  pale  face  for 
his  brother!"  ^    » 


■I?*  i 


'nt.  Y  fi\^  H-ttt 


Kiohba  smiled  grimly,  as  he  replied, 
pointing  to  the  old  chief:  "The  father 
may  demand  the  prisoner,  to  adopt  him 
as  his  son.  Let  the  chief  speak;  will 
he  take  to  his  lodge  the  sorcerer,  who  has 
changed  the  heart  of  the  young  eagle 
who  was  once  the  truest  of  the  Mo- 
hawks?"    f    . 


.s  t 


-^"'^^^■:iy^ 


■I  •JJ.v 


^  Absorbed  in  anxious  expectation,  the 
young  brave  heeded  not  the  taunt.    The 


itH 


^ 

^  ^ 

'*;>^^<i* 
o  /^>.^< 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


UiM2A     12.5 


lU 

u 


140 


2.0 


■lUU 


o> 


(^ 


V 


'i.a«J,. 


Hiotographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WfST  MAIN  STRIET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MSSO 

(716)  872-4S03 


•^ 


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qv 


\\ 


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6^ 


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„»\l-s/..  '  r,:.i,-.,>.--^. 


.'i.'Ji^lKinft' 


■^ 

/    , 

, .  '     . 

'-   :   -  ■"^.— 

^^> 

f 

V 

•■■■'■:-.;'  .  :'-'V  V'i^v  ■ 

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'  i-  ;..       /  ■'  "   '.'?•■'    ■      ;•     -   ■■v.;  '.    V- - f-'"'^ ■/■'-.  - 

■ 

■ ;,  •   ^  *^-- 

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'  ^ ■-}•'■■'■■:.  ~i     ;■      '        "    .    -    '      ''-■■r.-S-^:' 

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1^5 


182 


PERK  JEAN^ 


old  man  was  silent  for  a  moment^  thea 
raising  his  head^  replied^ firmly : -^^ 
"^^^'Kiskepilatoo^  a  warrior^  a  Mohawk. 
He  has  taken  a  Huron  heart.  The  pale 
face  has  told  him  strange  tales^  and  he 
has  heard.  The  blackgown  is  a  sorcerer. 
The  father  of  Kiskepila  will  not  claim 
him;  let  him  die!''  The  head  of  the 
yoong  chief  sank  upon  his  breast^  and 
he  was  silent. 

«^"He  must  die!"  re-echoed  Eiohba, 
and .  tauntingly^  continued :  ^'he  tells  you 
that  his  God  raised  the  dead  to  life ;  why 
does  he  not  call  up  the  great  Champlain 
from  the  tomb  to  protect  his  people? 
Let  ius  see  whether  his  Qed  will  save  the 
pale  face^  when  the  flames  shall  glow  and 
curl  around  his  white  limbs ! " 
«aftf  You  demand  of  me  a  miracle !"  Fa- 
ther Laval  replied  gently ;  "  you  call  on 
my  God  to  raise  the  dead.  He  has  dune 
1H|  he  can  do  it  s^ain.  He  has  opened 
ite  sileiu  tomb,  and  bid  the  dead  arise 


'■  .:V 


■f».:*. 


■,-%.**«: 


OR  THE  MISSIONARY. 


183 


^t^  thea 

ohawk. 
le  pale 
and  he 
>rcerer. 
claim 
of  the 
^t,  and 

lohba^ 
Us  you 
rwhy 
nplain 
Jople? 
re  the 
w  and 

•'Pa- 
all  on 
dune 
)ened 
arise 


and  come  forth^  glowing  with  liie^  and 
healthy  and  energy;  and  he  has  done  this 
at  the  prayer  of  his  holy  servants.  I  am 
but  his  humble  follower.  What  right 
have  you  to  demand  from  the  Ood  who 
made  you  a  sign  and  a  miracle  in  testi- 
mony ?  Yours  is  not  the  prayer  of  the 
willing;  it  is  the  scoff  of  the  hater.''  ?«v  ' 
'^  The  indignant  voice  of  the  Jesuit  ceased. 
After  a  pause  of  some  moments  an  Indian 
approached^  and  finished  painting  his 
head  and  face.  It  was  the  sign  of  final 
condemnation,  and  was  received  with  ex- 
ultation by  many ;  yet  there  were  not  a 
few  who  began  to  entertain  an  increased 
dread  of  what  they  imagined  to  be  his 
power.  Bat  the  feeling  of  the  council 
was  excited^  although  that  assemblage 
still  retained  its  calm  and  grave  aspect; 
and^  with  but  little  delay^  the  novice  jmd 
the  Hurons  were  also  condemned  to  the 
torture.  Father  Laval^  Leloup  i^id  two 
other  Hurons  were  to  suffer  on  the  mor* 


.'^: >:.«.:  »■ 


■** 


Ji^-: 


?HMHW*t' *«■**■<■-■  ^-^a' 


184 


FERK  JEAN^ 


row,  in  front  of  the  council  lodge,  while 
Rene  Bourdoise  and  the  three  remaining 
Hiirons  were  to  be  tortured  at  the  other 
village.  The  prisoners  received  their 
doom  calmly,  the  Huions  looking  coMly 
on  the  preparations,  which  were  begun 
at  once,  to  carry  out  the  sentence  of  the 
council,  which  then  broke  up. 
''When  Kiskepila  found  all  his  efforts 
fruitless,  he  took  the  arm  of  the  warrior, 
who  had  assisted  him  to  the  spot,  for  his 
strength  began  to  fail  very  rapidly,  and,  in 
silence,  returned  to  his  tent,  determined 
not  to  look  upon  sufferin^^  which  he 
could  not  prevent  or  allevia  .  Morning 
Flower  awaited  sadly  the  termination  of 
the  council,  and  wept  over  the  fate  of  the 
blackgown;  but  she  recalled  to  memory 
the  beautiful  lessons  of  patience  which 
he  hstd  taught  her,  and  suppressed  the 
manifestation  of  her  grief^*^  ^  ^i-^rm^M  ^ 
The  ^uron  messenger  of  Ahasistari 
struck  directly  through  the  forest  in  the 


!*. 


t)R   THB   MISSIONARY. 


1851 


direction  of\he  plade  where  the  brareali 
were  supposed   to  lie    cotcealed^    Theb 
stars  were  shining  in  the  clear  heavens, ' 
and  an  occasional  glance  at  their  spark#l 
ling  orbs  served  to  guide  his  path.    Upil 
over  hill  and  steep  ascent,  over  fewamp  > 
and  morass  went  the  swift  Indian,  at  his 
loping  trot,  tireless,  never  pausing.    Midi^t 
night  came,  and  the  runner  still  pressed 
on;  his   moccasined  feet  springing    yep^ 
lightly  from  the  soft  turf,  as  he  bounded^ 
on.    Darkness  melted  slowly  into  the  grapl 
of  ntiorn,  and  morning  brightened  into  day ^t 
and    yet    the    Huron    speeded    on.    At$ 
length  he  paused  upon  the  summit  of  »^ 
little  hill.    At  its  foot,  clear  and  pellucid0^ 
flowed  a  gentle  streamv    But  no  traceil 
could   he  discover  of  any   living  thingp 
upoii  its  batriis,  or  in  its  surroundings 
forest.    A  moment  more  his  eye  sca&m^d 
the  wood,  and  then  descended  to  th^ll^  * 
water's  edge.    A^  he  leaned  upon  hisli 
rifl^i^  |iprgu|^  ^etitad  . J|e  ^  c^ 


186 


PBBP  JBANj 


flowing  by  him,  till  bis  gaze  seemed 
rireted  by  a  floating  twig,  with  green 
leaves  upon  it.  An  eddy  whirled  it  in 
towards  the  shore,  and  he  drew  it  towards 
him  with  the  but  of  his  rifle.  The  frac- 
ture of  the  branch  was  fresh,  and  it  was 
evidently  torn,  not  bitten  ofi*.  Swinging 
his  rifle  into  the  hollow  of  his  arm,  the 
runner  turned  directly  up  the  stream, 
taking  care  to  leave  no  tracks  behind  him. 
For  some  time  he  proceeded  on  his 
course,  still  casting  an  occasional  glance 
at  the  forest  around  him,  and  on  the 
ground  before  him,  watching  for  the 
marks  of  a  trail.  Suddenly  he  paused, 
and  looked  intently  upon  the  ground,  and 
then  stooped  dawn  to  examine  the  surface 
more  closely.   >  nm-^  iw  4  ,j.--  ■  :^ vs* .  v^^i...  A'i'^^- 

1/' Hugh  I  paleface!"  he  exclaimed. 

IITbl  step  was  turned  from  the  stream; 
treading  cautiously,  so  ks  not  to  obliterate 
lUi^  trail  He  followed  it  back  to  the 
water's  edge,  and  examined  the  bushes 


OR  THE   MISSIONARY. 


167 


which  grew  there ;  they  were  of  the  same 
kind  as  the  branch  which  he  held  in  his 
hand.  Falling  into  the  trails  he  traced  it 
up  the  hill^  along  the  summit  of  which  it 
ran.  At  length  a  low  whistling  struck 
upon  his  ear,  and  he  paused  to  listen; 
and  then  crept  on  more  cautiously.  At 
the  foot  of  a  large  tree,  on  an  elevated 
spot,  from  which  an  extensive  sweep  of 
the  forest,  facing  towards  the  Mohawk 
village,  was  visible,  sat  the  figure  of  a 
white  man,  holding  in  his  hand  a  large 
rough  ox-horn,  which  he  was  busily  en- 
gaged in  shaping  into  a  powderhom. 
Every  now  and  then  he  compared  it  with 
the  one  which  was  slung  at  his  side,  and^ 
then  renewed  his«  labors.  Suddenly  % 
new  idea  seemed  to  strike  him  ;  and,  piit^ 
ting  it  to  his  mouth,  he  gave  a  blast, 
which  made  the  Huron  start  with  sur- 
prise. Then  he  began  at  once  to  shape 
the  small  opening  into  something  like  a 
mouth-piece.  At  last  he  seemed  satisfied, 
and  putting  it  to  his  lips,  sounded  it  again. 


1«8 


/M'/PfiKE  JEAir^ 


n 


€€ 


<^  Ha!  that  will  do !''  he  said  at  length ; 

^ood  idea ;  Indian  hates  the  sound  of  a 
hotn,  and  I  like  it.  Well/ 1  may  want  it 
sooti ;"  and  he  stuck  it  in  hid  belt  As  he 
did  so,  the  Huron  runner  stepped  before 
himi-^^  4f  'ir-  '■  -^  ••:"■•  .•u}'^*  thi  iiv'C^j 
I  it^  L'  Espibn  Hardi ! "  The  scout  sprang 
to  his  feet>  grasping  his  rifle,    t?  ».rr{  . .'? 

• 

liu'^Ah !  Huron  !^^  he  said,  as  his  eye  fell 
upon  the  dress  and  paint  of  the  Indian ; 
and  he  resumed  his  seat  again,  vr  /r .  v^ 
^P0  Hurdn  1  Yes  !   No  Mohawk !  or  ''— 
and  the  Indiaa  j^ointed  significantly  to 

his  SCa}|>.  • "  ■  -  ■      - :     ' '  ■  ' ^ >    -p / ^^ "> i:n  :••<  , ■  i4 i  .  b'V:.  ; : ? 

r  **  Right,  Huron  !  I  was  making  a  pow- 
derhorn,  when  I  thought  of  the  trumpets 
of  Ghamplain,  as  he  marched  to  batde. 
Ah !  did  you  ever  fight  under  Ghamplain, 
Huron  V^  vif^cfi  '' ' '  ""''i1uk.}*h '>^ ^^  'r^^^t'^'i^n i f 
^1  tf  No !  the  chief  and  ihany  of  the  bf  aVfes 
were  out  I'^-^'n'^t^'-  'H^?^^«^f■^■^f#''''fJ^H■T'^"''^^'^^t^^^^ 
^  ^Jfes,  I  know  it,  Huron !  Well,  il  came 
illto  my  head  to  try  hoW  a.  good  blast 


T»;4,? 


OR   THE   MISaiONARY. 


189 


gth; 
of  a 
nt  it 
she 
efore 

irang 


would  sound  in  this  old  forest.  It  was 
rash,  I  won^t  deny  it/'  he  continued,  as 
the  Huron  shook  his  head ;  ^^but  a  French- 
man loves  the  sound  of  the  trumpet 
Listen  now/'  he  said,  applying  the  trum- 
pet to  his  lips  once  more ;  but  the  In4iAT:^ 
placed  his  hand  upon  it  and  said  iMn^d^ 
I rj**  Daring  scout!  Mohawk  hunter  may 

hear  ! "    '■■'*' '  ^  a? ■ ;  ''■->    ••   ;   •  -.  ■  ^  •    ^  ■i-*-     - ;-  n^'iftf^  stfl 


IrM 


ITes,  yes!  but  when  we  were  out 
against  the  Mohawks  with  Champlain,  he 
let  them  hear  more  of  it  than  they  liked." 
.hf*  Great  brave!"  said  the  runner.r4j4ir 
^'  Yes,  he  was  a  warrior !  It  does  me 
good  to  hear  his  name  shouted  in  a  brisk 
charge;  it  helps  wonderfully,  altl  /Jgh 
he  is  dead  and  gone  now.  Yes,  he  was 
a  man,"  continued  Pierre,  sorrowfully ; 
Pno  such  man  in  2^11  the  province  now, 
or  these  rascally  Mphawka  .would  be 
taught  a  lesson  worth  if^iQemberii^/^*©^^ 
■fi^ff  The  daring  scout  iis  wHk th^Hiurpii 
jMratesI"  ajsked  thpTuanet^^^^v^tii'W^lii 

'ji  Immi 


■ri 


i^i 


■u 


l-aifcfcRkfe; 


190 


V  {s     P£Rfi   j£Air, 


<» 


"4  *'  Yes !  and  I  suppose  you  are  the  mes- 
l^nger  that  I  am  to  look  for  V  The  run- 
ner nodded  his  head^  and  the  other  con- 
tinued :    %i'     i 


>»* 


'y    ♦ 


<(| 


*;  ••They  are  across  the  stream ;  let  us 
go;''  and^  swinging  his  rifle  over  his 
shoulder^  the  scout  descended  the  hill  with 
rapid  strides.  When  they  approached 
the  stream^  the  runner  glided  to  the  side 
of  the  hunter,  and  holding  up  the  broken 
twig  before  him,  said :  •  ^  ^^  ^  • »  ^' ' 
''W^  Daring  scout  casts  a  trail  upon  the 
water.  Huron  found  this  far  down  the 
stream." 

I  The  scout  looked  at  it  for  a  moment, 
while  the  runner  explained  himself;  and 
then,  half  angry  at  the  implied  reproach, 
answered?  ..}'■>*»' -i  *  •-,(•: ':,,,:.-5,,i-i.it,;-i<     ,'m..-Ti-r  --i 

,-m*  €f  "Well,  and  but  for  that  twig  you  would 
not  have  found  us ;  you  missed  the  trail !'' 
€  *^  I  crossed  it  in  the  night,"  said  the 
HuroUj "  but  not  far  oflF.  Up  or  down 
the  stream,  the  Huron  would  soon  have 
found  it." 


OR   THE   MIS8I0MARY. 


191 


t( 


If- 


Far  enough^  at  any  rate,''  said  the 
scout,  **  or  you  would  have  been  here  at 
once,  without  striking  on  the  stream  be- 
low. See,  here  is  one  of  duickfoot's 
marks  upon  this  oak ;  he  followed  directly 
upon  the  trail,  and  even  made  it  plainer 
for  you,  by  these  gashes  !'V       .   ^.t;  > 

"Bad!"  replied  the  runner,  quickly, 
/*  Mohawk  keen  eye ! "  .  fv-  >f  j/ii»  Horn- 
•  f  /'  Night  and  day,"  continued  the  scout, 
''  we  kept  watch,  by  turns,  upon  that  hill 
which  overlooked  the  path,  waiting  for 
the  messenger,  whom  Quickfoot  told  us 
Ahasistari  would  send."  '  -^  ^^* 
,  "Huron!"  said  Pierre,  after  walking 
some  time  in  silence,  "  have  you  seen  the 

prisoners ^".f-vd.:. I  i  v^.^'>  n  m -I^cim  :fMl4# 
fiif"Yes,  from  the  woods;  saw  black- 
gown  walking  about." 


i  i'1-f 


f 


:  »>->M^l> 


Ik 


,  i.^iWell,  perhaps  then  they  won't  at- 
tempt to  kill  them  yet,  and  we  can  get 
there  in  time."         '  '  Jw^.,| 

The  Indian  shook  his  head,  and  said: 


■^   ^    i'     ^JL    ^       £  .^v 


'^/ii-ikisS,s'^>iSS«!W 


Lvn?'**^.'**^**^ 


TW^^|J^^W».T^  -jr    ■^'JljRT';-    T' 


. '"Ry  ^^  .-.: 


>19S 


■  YX      VIRE  J  BAN.    an 


(.1  ;. 


4f 


Today  council ;  to- tnorrdw  lorture; 
daring  scout  knows  liow  it  is."  **  ,H»*  - 
,  .iv*«'Then,"  said  iho  scout  sternly,  as  he 
strode  aloug  with  swifter  step,  "then, 
Huron,  there  will  be  at  the  dance  some 
guests  not  invited.'*  »•*<»•  ),wjiiU  ^iU*  ».>  */ 
They  hastened  on  in  silence,  until  they 
reached  the  place  of  concealment.  It  was 
well  chosen.  In  an  extensive  thicket,  a 
space  had  been  cut  away,  and  here  the 
warriors  Were  lying  about  in  groups  upon 
their  blankets.  Exclamations  of  delight 
welcomed  the  scout  and  the  runner,  and 
the  whole  body  assembled  in  council. 
The  runner  explained  the  condition  of 
things,  and  delivered  the  order  of  the 
chief;  and  in  a  few.  moments  more  the 
party,  nineteen  in  number,  took  up 
their  line  of  march,  throwing  out  ac- 
tive scouts  in  advance,  to  guard  against 
any  '^accidental  nieetin^  with  the  Mo- 
hawks. ^^^ 


-..-^f . 


■s;^.:^4f>M^l^Yii^- 


..iiy^^fyif 


'-j'miij 


n*,.  .'■«; 


^  lorlure; 

illy,  as  he 
P,  "then, 
mce  some 

until  they 
t.  It  was 
thicket,  a 

here  the 
>ups  upon 
>f  delight 
aner,  and 

council, 
dition  of 
r  of  the 
nore  the 
took    up 

out  ac- 
lii|ainst 
he    Mo- 


*'■'■ 


i     ■* 


;j,vi.d  •^h;U5    'K«I  $ii^i?-i^J   h'   • 


rj.v;  ii.''!..rv/ 


t|'^l|l'*,*.,Ati*'Vf '•'■j  fvt '1i'''!  ■♦ 


( I 


'''''^ggio  o  b  o 

'  '-^^         CHAPTER  X.         J 
J  n\  /^^  /^  >^^  /-N  /^^  /'"i 


The  Tortme.        ,        ,,w,i 

^MEDIATELY  after  the  break- 
ing  up  of  the  council,  Ae^Mo- 
Gawks  began  their  preparation^|Bp  th^? 
coming  festival.  Four  stakes  were  planted 
in  front  of  the  lodge,  and  piles  of  fagots 
were  gathered  in  the  forest.  At  a  littl6^ 
distance  beyond  the  first,  four  other  stakes 
were  placed,  to  which  the  prisoners, 
whose  fate  was  postponed,  were  to  be 
bound,  that  they  might  witness  the  agony 
of  their  brethren,  and  suffer,  themselves,  la 
anticipation.  The  youths  of  the  village 
now  commenced  to  gather  about  the  lodge, 
in  order  to  enjoy  the  preliminary  torture. 


:^ 


fei?w'^f-'vp,r 


194 


PERE  J£ANy 


which  was  permitted  them  for  their  own 
especial  amusement,  and  to  pj^actise  thetn 
in  the  ways  of  cruehy.  This  sometimes 
endured  until  taken  part  in  by  the  braves, 
when  it  did  pot  cease  until  death  brought 
relief  to  the  victim.  Leloup  and  Father 
Laval  were  brought  forth  and  tied  to  two 
of  the  stakes,  and  the  clamorous  mob 
hovered  around  them,  pelting  and  annoy- 
ing them  in  a  thousand  ingenious  modes 
of  pettv  torture.  They  soon,  however, 
heoflHfmore  systematic,  and,  drawing  off 
to  ai  Utile  distance,  practised  upon  their 
living  targ^,  with  the  bow  and  arrow, 
and  the  tomahawk.  Leloup  stood  up  with 
the  proud  and  fearless  bearing  of  the  war- 
rior^  his  steady  eye  gleaming  unmoved 
upon  the  flashing  weapon,  as,  hurled 
from  the  skilful  hand^  it  grazed  his  tern- 
pie,  and  sank  quivering  into  the  post  be- 
hind  him.  Another  and  another  threw ; 
it  was  a  desperate  game,  in  which  the 
winner  was  he  who  came  nearest  to  death 


'■■T*T'^^;'T*,*'^'"^'^''''''"''''^r''.'''''-''"  '■?-^'j*'''./'-"'-''''"'"r-,'''''3:"';*K^-"":.^^; '!'■"'■"  ".'■;'^  " 


on  TAl?^  MISSIONARY. 


■■■& 


1    5i  ■  i''  '• 


¥*^*' 


195 


withottt '  tbucfaing  life.  Father  Lavlf 
endured  with  the  meekness  and  patience 
of  the  martyr;  his  eyes  were  upturned  to 
heaven^  for  he  dared  not  look  upon  the  hand 
that  threw  the  coming  weapon.  Kiohba« 
the  Mohawk,  stretched  out  upon  the  soft 
turf,  watched  the  youthful  tormenters 
with  quiet  enjoyment,  occasionally  sug- 
gesting to  them  some  new  mode  of  in- 
creasing the  sufferings  of  the  victims.  At 
length,  as  his  appetite  for  cruelty  became 
excited,  he  arose,  and,  seizing  one  if  the 
tomahavi  ks,  drew  back  and  hurled  it  at  the 
Jesuit.  The  weapon  whistled  through 
the  air,  and  struck  the  post  by  his  temple, 
driving  a  lock  of  his  hair  into  the  wood. 
A  shout  of  delight  arose  from  the  crowd 
at  this  evidence  of  skill,  and  Kiohba,  rais^ 
ing  another  weapon,  aimed  a  second  time 
at  the  priest.  It  struck  upon  the  other 
side  as  truly  as  the  first,  and  the  victim^ 
stood  drawn  back  to  the  post  by  his  owfi 
hair*    Renewed  applause  broke  from  the 


r''  '.V  '•-"''■-^  x'v^! 


r?    x'V^*ir^"i' 


•t-S!--"' 


i96 


tifli  FBHE   JEAN,     iO 


iiyouths^  and  each  one  endeavored  to  emu> 
4ate  the  skill  of  the  warrior.    After  some 
lioie,  they  grew  tired  of  their  sport,  and 
^|he  prispnera  were  pernutted  for  awhile  to 
v^poain  unmolested.   Ir^--^^  **?!*  #*^^f  ^*5^' 
^  As  the  crowd  drew  away  from  the  spot, 
the  ^gure  of  a  maiden  glided  silently  to 
.the  side  of  the  Jesuit,  and,  offering  a  cool- 
ing draught  to  his  parched  lips,  bathed 
jbis  brow,  which  the  intense  excitement 
had  caused  to  throb  with  feverish  pain, 
'f  Sjtranger  from  over  the  far  watera^  Morn- 
ing Flower  thought  once  to  avenge  upon 
thee  the  wounds  of  the  Young  Eagle. 
,But  blackgQwn  has  pardoned  the  wrongs 
.of  «the  Mphawk  girl^l^hou  bast  told  us 
of  the  glory  of  forgiving  and  loving  our 
^Diemies— Tulhasaga,  thou  art  the  enemy 
^i;l)l«(  Mohawks,  but  Morning  Flower 
doth  not  hate  thee.^^M  li    jmrn^q^'mh^n 
%^f '  Heaven  ble^|hee,  my  child,  and  lead 
I  thee,  through  the  merits^  of  Him  who  died 
^;MPQfl1b^  cross,  to  a^f  way  of  salvation, 


^H 


f  »J         T    TT^ 


OR  THB  MlSMdlTARY. 


%4  *X 


l^r 


pwteerfingit^efr^  trials  ^nd  Buftetiirg^,'*^ ' 
said  thi^  Jesuit  sadly^  but  fetvently/   '  ' '^^^ 
;  ulFhe  Indian  girl  placed  herself  upon  th# 
^rass^  and  looked  up  into  his  fi^ce  af^ 
fectionately,  as  if  to  a  father,  and  said,  as 
she  caaght  th^  mournfit]  expression  \xp6^ 
the  countenance  of  the  priest  f***^^  4 If** 
^^*  Blackgown,  thou  hast  told  me  that 
each  one  shall  bear  his  cros^>  llf  the  Bd[# 
viouTi  of  whom  thou  speakest,  bore  hiii^ 
Blackgown^  thou  art   boun4  Unto  tb^ 


cross  I'^^ftM^4^^%:4A*  -^i^^j  v.*i#3^ 


#«fe' 


iln  a  moment,  the  sad  expression 
passed  from  the  features  of  the  ;?esuiti' 
and,  with  a  holy  enthusiasm,  he  ex-^ 
claimed :  *^t^*-  l^f-'^^f-nx^-'  tuMv-h^i  1  'fA*^  ■ 
M^Oh  God !  in  the  midst  of  soff oSv  an# 
tribulation,  thou  dost  send  down  consolar 
tions  unspeakable  "tdlfe)^^  servant  ^  b|^ 
the  mouth  of  this  wild  maiden,  thou  iiast 
uttered  to  me  words  of  sweet  and  saving 
import  f  thou  hrast  stf aigthened  is^^  Ihou 
hast  consoled.    Oh !  how  happy  to  betii 


198 


.tj     P£RS  JEAir,      fi^o 


[Uiy  cross^  to  suffer — to  suffer  for  thy 
sake !  Gtentle  maiden — ^woman  still  f  wo- 
man who  did  not  shrink  from  the  cross 
and  its  ignominy^  from  the  shouts  and 
curses  of  the  crucifiers !  woman,  still  the 
faithful  and  the  pure^  and  the  unswerv- 
ing! woman,  the  holy,  holy  from  the 
holiness  of  the  stainless  mother,  pure 
from  the  purity  of  the  immaculate,  gentlest 
of  God's  creatures — it  was  given  to  thee 
to  be  the  angel  of  mercy  and  the  comforter 
of  the  afflicted.  Kind  maiflen,  thou  hast 
soothed  the  sad  spirit ;  may  the  mother 
most  pure,  the  ennqbler  of  thy  sex,  the 
ever  virgin,  intercede  for  thee."***,  .v  ,^,. 
And  then  the  spirit  of  the  captive 
teemed  wrapt  in  meditation,  and  he  stood, 
with  eyes  cast  upwards,  and  lips  moving 
stilly.  A  holy  and  tranquil  glow  crept 
softly  over  the  face  of  him  wha  awaited 
a  death  of  horrible  torture.  Sweetly  it 
grew  upon  that  countenance,  the  beam  of 
prayer,  and  hope^  and  joy,  spreading  from 


OR  THR   MISSIONART.  * 

feature  to  feature^  till  nothing  of  earth  was 
left.  Upwards,  upwards  soared  the  soul 
upon  the  wings  of  love;  upwards  unti.  it 
seemed  already  to  be  mingling  its  whis- 
pered orisons  with  the  seraphic  choir. 
Hast  thou  looked  upon  the  sunlight 
stealing  gently  o'er  a  shadowed  spot? 
Hast  thou  marked  the  sombre  cloud  dis- 
perse,  until  nothing  but  the  glad  skies 
looked  down  upon  thee?  Hast  thou 
watched  the  shrouding  mist  evanish,  or 
the  pale  hue  of  sickness  brighten  into 
the  red  glow  of  health  ?  Thus  fled  sor- 
rpw  and  sadness  from  the  captive's  face. 
|^;The  untutored  maiden  looked  in  won- 
der on  the  change  wrought,  as  it  wem^ 
by  one  unconscious  word.  Here  she 
sat,  looking  fondly  up  to  that  glorious, 
heavenly  face,  catching  from  its  pur§ 
mirror  a  reflection  of  holy  thought.  Unh 
conscious  the  Jesuit  stood,  visions  of  bliss 
l^ipfred  ai'ouQd  him;  the  gentle  zephyr 
that  fanned  his  cheek  seemed  beaten  on 


'4' 

4. 


Tv-f— - 


,<!■->  . 


.*»JI  PERE  JEAN,       >^^> 

by  the  wings  of  seraphs  (  joyous  songs 
broke  upon  his  ear,  and  doudd  of  ihcehse 
floated  sweetly  over  his  wrapt  seinsfes. 
Death  and  torture  were  before  hito,  but 
heaven  was  above  him  5  could  he  look 
downwards  to  the  earth  and  its  fleet- 
ing torments?  O  wonderful  mission  of 
Christianity !  that  which  came  upon  earth 
to  raise  man  far  above  the  very  sublimest 
idea  of  the  heathen  God,  to  inspire  him 
with  thought  above  the  power  of  mortali- 
ty^ to  give  him  a  life  which  death  could 
■  not  extinguish— a  life  beyond  and  above 
this  earth — a  ray  oV  the  Spirit  of  God. 
Still  unmoved  the  Jesuit  stood,  his  head 
ihfown  back  and  resting  upon  the  stake, 
Mi^body  supported  by  the  cords  which 
bound  him,  ev^ry  function  slumbering, 
every  energy  absorbed.  He  was  in  truth 
only  an  imprisoned  soul.  *  Welcome  the 
knife,  welcome  the  torture,  welcome 
death  by  fire,  by  steely  by  slow  delay, 
for  the  spirit  is  away  upon  its  wtngfes,  al<- 


iSi.iS.^Ci 


W^' 


mM 


AymV' 


ait4M«4;'i»  ttoe^  af  tueh  bKasS 
Ob«3^e9l  noiB!  weleomet  deatb ;  ftir  Ihott 
o«M cmly  be ttie  wber  of  eternftlltfe  1 

flUJlEe^the  shudow^  when  tba  sniilMHUEa 
1^  Iiassedf  eame  back  ibe  tkotifht  ^f 
etaik  to  tht^  soul  of  the  priest.  A  deiqpi 
sig^  lirokff  firiNEn  bis  half  closed  iips; 

f1^ Sow  lo«^ !  G  Lord  t  how  JOog  I'' 

Awe-atriekea  sat  the  simple  lodiaa 
maideii,  as  she  gazed  upon  that  eoonte- 
iia)^^effa]gei|t  with  ineffable  happiness* 
fbiwing  with  unearthly  beaatjf*  With 
parted  tips  and  Sited  eyei  aba  giized 
refereiuly — ^for  woman,  biased  a^  Ihf ^ 
in9tmnient  of  the  peat  blessing  Ui  mant 
catehes  intuitively  the  beam  ofheavenfa 
light,  and  reflects  it  Mi  her  soul 

.I'WBXf-^m  exclaimed  the  J^uit,  and 
due  brolisn  aspiration  wasfiiiishediMib^Mrd. 


,M 


I" 


TrrTT.-!"- 


m 


H, 


14 


yi 


$9 


.u 


208' 


FKRB  JMAM, 


.ih. 


'/■- 


There  wasfMTi^yer  in  thfttwhispei^d  w6rd^ 
prayer  of  it^e^sonl'^^aod  it  ardat  from  the 
wild  heart  of  the  uatntored  Indiao-^frQin 
the  soul  of  the  ecstatic  priest — <"  Mary  t" 
'^  At  thai  moment  came,  swelling  (rem 
ihe  prison  house  of  the  captive  Hurons, 
the  sound  of  a  Christian  hymn.;  From 
deep  stern  Voices  came  it,  but  the  melody 
was  sad  and  plaintive,  and  varied  with 
t^  yuryiDg  measure  of  the  rude,  un- 
ildl^hed  verse,   f  4. -: . .  (^-i^  ■4-'-..^'.4'*f^>#i->',?f^#4v 

,■  ■*-    H«fMr  mother,,  hear !  .4>4^^|t%i!|^*^%|^igi^^ 
Htir,  qu9«D  of  the  bright  and  bles«ed! 

Now  that  death  19  near,  <,  ..  ^      .^^*    .  ^.^■^ 
The  prayer  to  thee  addressed !     '  '^'f    ^  ^ 

Hear,  for  the' day  is  flying,  ^^'^•^^**^**-«^ 
;    ,  And  thy  pdor  chiMren,  sighing,  -^^^^00 

S|^Bese«ch  thy  aid  in  dying.    ..'  -^,  .^l^i^^p^ 
^^i^0^^rf^-K-^¥^H^  4,|H[ear  mother,  heiir  t|. 

,r    Mother  of  mercy,  hear  f'^/r'-^P"^^^ 


The  swi  On  earth  i#  sihkingT^ 

Wllliiiri%led  hope  and  fear^ 
'tiff  #llildrtfi%  heavls  are  shrinking ; 


^•yv3^'5r. 


OR  THE  MIMI09ART. 


20J 


Mother,  heed:  th*  infferhig  ohild, 
B«»t^^  woliildecly  bruise^,  reriled. 
Tortured  ifi  the  Ibrett  wild. 

'    Mother>  lather  hear ! 


j^-jf^  .'jH^rfi 


MofWr;  %  His  bWod !  -m'  r*^^^ 


'd:|fP's 


.iA 


,   .    ,  ,       .^v,     ,.-■■     ■•'•7. 

Mothlir,  by  thy  teari  and  romwi 
By  the  earth's  redeeming  wood. 

Aid  u«  in  our  strife  to-inorrow  l/^'>)^  v^i^ 
Wiiiirow  thy  all  conquering  JS!f{|i|^.^v^^ 
By  the  triumph  he  has  won, 
Grace  and  strength  to  gain  our  own. 
^    *   Mother,  mother  hear ! 


^k0kf0^ih  0-  *m;i*-'er.  ,«.*i^:?^''iiy 


;'.•*, 


'i^' 


■S^a'Jiri- 


Softly  hushed  the  sound  of  prayer^  and 
the  notes  died  awa^^  but  the  still  form  of 
the  Indian  girl  scarce  moved — waiting  for 
the  deep-toned  music  to  awake  again.  It 
came  not^  and  she  murmured  in  the  air, 
*^  Mother,  mother  hear!** 

The  haughty  bearing  of  Leloup  had" 
pasised  away;  the  keen  eye,  that  had 
gazed  unmoved  upon  the  flashing  toma- 
hawk, was  dimmed  and  softened ;  hisr 
^ead  rested  upon  his  breast).    He  Wa$ 


^ 

''-!  * 


»'H 


PBEB  JSAK, 


wrapt  in  prayeh    He  was  the  aavigo 
warrior  no  longer,  but  the  Christian. 
.    At  length,  from  the  coancil  lodge  came 
faintly  swelling  the  voice  of  the  young 
novice,  and   alternately   responding  the 
full  chorus  of  the  Hurons.    They  were 
reciting  the   litany.    Sadly    struck  the 
tones  of  his  young  companion's  yoice 
upon  the  ear  of  the  Jesuit;   They  were 
weak  and  tremulous.    Morning  Flower 
listened — was  it  the  warrior's  death  song? 
Never  before,  in  the  villages  of  her  tribe, 
had  sucfh  chant  been  raised  by  those  who 
were  about  to  die.    The  Jesuit  and  Le- 
Idtrp  joined  in  the  responses,  and  the 
solemn  '^  Miierere  nobis^*  rose  distinct  and 
clear!'  The  maiden  hung  in  wrapt  at- 
tention on  the  alternate  sounds  of  uihay 
voices  mingling  in  heartfelt  prajiii^iiius 
pn^^ed  the  autumn  sunset.  -■  ^^l! -*, 

Ahasistari  sat  alone  in  his  rocky  hiding 
p%(;e.  E  er  a)jd  anon  he  cast  i^  meaning 
giii^t^w^rds  tile  vilest,  whereto  hesky  was, 


OE  THE  MISUOHA&T. 


^1'^'^^^ 


ytt  tii^d  with  gold,  iHhough  the  orb  of 
day  btddidftppeiired*  Then  he  rested  his 
hetd  ikpon  his  knees  and  remained  im- 
movablr.  His  rifle  lay  at  his  feet,  and 
hi$  nuMiimng  arms  upon  it,  as  if  he  had 
^i  been  preparing  them  carefully  for 
immediate  use.  Twilight  came,  still  the 
dhief  moved  not.  At  length  he  arose,  and 
approaching  nhe  entrance  of  the  cavern^ 
tooked  out  upon  the  forest,  listening  in- 
tently for  some  welcome  sound — nothing 
stfuck  upon  his  ear  save  the  rustling  of 
the  leaves  and  the  low  swinging  of  the 
overhanging  branches.  There  was  silence 
in  the  vast  forest;  the  hum  of  the  little 
insect,  as  it  uttered  its  evening  prayer, 
was  the  only  sdinnd  of  living  thing  that 
broke  upon  the  solitude.  For  a  moment 
it  seemed  that  a  shadow  of  doubt  passed 
acioss  the  brow  of  the  warrior.  It  oc- 
etifred  to  kim  that  bis  party  might  have 
been  mt  eC  ii#  eould  npt  doubt"  but 
that  Waiook  had  ediected  a  force  tod 


'&'\ 


Ji  A 


>.. 


4:';,:ii C M 4a*  Hii  .'«■-?  i- 


followed  itt  pursuit ;  iihd  that  CtuicKibot^ 
his  first  messenger^  had  fallen  in  with 
them,  as  otherwise  the  sagacious  Huron 
would  have  returned  days  ago,  to  share 
the  fortunes  of  his  chief.  Perhaps  his 
last  messenger  had  missed  the  trail  in 
the  forest^  and  for  a  time  the  chief  almost 
regretted  that  he  had  not  dared  the  risk 
consequent  upon  the  concealment  of  so 
many  men  near  the  village,  accompanied, 
as  it  was,  with  the  advantage  of  their 
proximity  in  case  a  sudden  opportunity 
of  rescue  presented  itself.  It  was  already 
time  that  the  party  should  have  reached 
the  place  of  his  concealment  which  he 
had  designated  as  the  point  of  rendezvous. 
But  hours  might  yet  elapse  before  the 
torture  would  begin,  for  although  he  did 
not  know  the  exact  result  of  the  council's 
deliberations,  he  fdt  that  there  was  little 
doubt  of  the  condemnation  of  Father 
Laval,  and  the  other  prisoners ;  and  that 
'their  lives  hung  upon  a  thread  liable  to 


•T'"'j»^ 


...M^ 


*jRjh 


.}:'M^'^ 


^t  ^^^  til  ff  ^  Xhic:|>iiLteij*f 


OR  TH«   MISSfOlTARY. 


■■^\ 


#  %him 

or ;cttprieeof  the  savai^es.  A^hef  ca«t  his 
%e  atdtiiid^iiidiBtinctly  it  caught  th^  radi^ 
a&G^.ofa  stream  of  light  UIummatiDg  the 
loaisi  that  hung  above  the  village*  Taking 
lip  his  arms  he  descended  to  the  fores|t 
below^  and  a  few  momentsVwalk  brought 
him^r||)|,a  plaee  whence  he  could  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  lodges^  and  at  the  same 
time  be  near  the  path  to  the  rendezvous. 
JPhe  glare  of  a  large  fire  flashed  up  to4^ 
wards  the  darkening  sky^  and  tinged  with 
rM  the  waving  branches  of  the  fbrest. 
|^#  figures  were  still  J>ound  to  the  stakes^ 
^nd  groups  of  boys  and  men  were  loiter- 
.lag  about,  seemingly  awaiting  some v  Wt 
prdaching  event,  ^k^^i,  '^'Mk^m^^'.'i4^:^^i^!^i^f^ 
fcf'The  Hurons  must  speed  on,  or  ihey 
|Bi^tUi^<^me  too  late/'  exclaimed  Ahasistari 
bitterly,  as  he  stretched  himself  upon  the 
ground.  ^  ■  .■*^'; :'W^0m4i^^^ '^M^w^^ '-^ff^^t 
#  The  fire  flashed  out  more  brightly  now, 
for  some  hand  had  cast  more  fuel  on  it; 


Ti'iB,liKlr**i''Wrfi 


SiV 


\ 

h'.Jf 


■.v.; 


tXM  4KAlf » 


"i»;?;>' 


and  the  light  of  the  flame  played  around 
the  mild  face  of  the  Jesuit  a«  he  stood 
boQiid  to  the  stake.  His  htgb»  bold  fore- 
head seemed  to  catch  the  fioatrng  beams, 
which  lingered  round  it,  like  a  saintly 
halo  of  coming  glory.  Ahasistari  recog- 
nised the  form  of  Father  Laval,  even  at 
that  distance,  and,  looking  for  a  moment 
in  silence,  exclaimed :  v-..  -  ^'  S^f^-il^ 
vi&**They  will  come  too  late!  there  will 
he  one  more  stake  and  one  more  torture! 
My  father,  I  swear  to  thee  that  Abasistari 
will  share  thy  fortunes,  whether  of  death 
or  life!''  and  he  arose  and  turned  towards 
the  village.  Suddenly  he  paused,  and 
cast  his  eyes  to  the  northeast  as  if  he 
would  penetrate  the  dark  veil  that  stretched 
before  him ;  then  he  laid  his  ear  t.«  the 
▼ery  ground  and  listened.  At  length, 
casting  his  rifle  upon  the  sod,  he  sat 
down,  and,  shrouding  his  face  in  his 
hands,  remained  still  and  motionless^ It 


a  statue*  i^^mmi^^  ^^apf  .s^^=i^'-j^^#pi;;»fr:^»j^yf 


. :  ^fv.'-.-f i/  !i>  CrJAy /4-i,i<,  1*.- V  ...J 


VPtt       *^^>:<  J^^^^|||^W#>||^  ,' 


4''-: 


5S,ff' 


V ''"'!'.'. 


%(^^$eem^^Wi{ii^  the  Matiawks  were 
nbout  to  amicipatf^  the  hour  of  final  tor* 
Jt^ft^  JCh-e  prisoners  were  brought  out,  one 
1)^  dbev^ind  bound  to  the  stakes  until  the 
eight  were  occupied.  The  crowd  began 
HiJQCrease,  and  new  fires  were  raised. 
iThe  women  gathered  the  fagots  nearer. 
Fajther  Lav^al  looked  sadly  upon  these  pre4 
jparations;  but  the  Huron,  Leloup,  per^ 
ceiving  what  was  passing  in  his  mind, 
^Sl^id'in  broken  Frenchlv.^-f:-.''=^'^v:rf^:^^fw?^?^ 
^^  Not  yet,  my  fether,  not  yet.  The 
Slohawk  is  not  so  merciful!  he  loves 
hours  of  torture-i"  :' .  .^-  -^-^^ '  :  -'^^r^f;  W^s0^- 
4#  Oh  <3od !  give  us  grace  to  die  Worths 
ly!^'  exclaimed  the  Jesuit,  and  then  re^. 
sumed  his  silent  prayer,  ^^'^rv  ir  .*  t  i^  #^ 
Darkness  was  deepening,  but  the  lights 
of  the  blazing  ^res  rushed  up  fitfully  to 
heaven,  casting  i  red  gleam  upon  the 
scene  around,  and  making  the  ferocious 
Mohawks,  as  they  ^||^  about  in  their 
fell  work,  resemble  siotnany  fiends  at 


-  .*   .'1 


W:: 


c  *,, 


;k, 


>?^';  -.i^" 


their  infernal  orgies*  The  prisloii^rft  were 
stripped  of  their  clothing,  and  the  work  of 
torture  began.  Snatching  up  burnitig 
pieces  of  wood,  the  savages  held  the^m 
close  to  the  naked  skin  until  its  surface 
blistered  with  the  slow  heat;  then,  as  the 
swollen  part  became  dead  and  senseless 
to  the  lesser  torture,  they  pressed  the  live 
coal  into  the  raw  flesh  until  it  hissed,  and 
fumed,  and  cracked,  while  the  groan  of 
intense  agony  arose  from  the  lips  of  the 
white  sufferers.  The  stern  Indian  en- 
dured in  silence.  Father  Laval,  a$  the 
red  cinders  pierced  his  flesh,  elevated  his 
soul  to  God,  and  dwelt  upon  the  sufier- 
ings  of  him  whose  brow  had  borne  a 
crown  of  thorns,  whose  hands  and  feet 
had  been  torn  with  nails,  whose  precious 
side  had  been  opened  witM%i  spea% 
"Jesus,  Mary,  and  Joseph,**  were  evei^ 
on  his  lips,  and  his  upraised  spirit  seemed 
at  last  to  forsake  and  leave  behind  it  ttii 
sorrow  and  sufferings  of  earth;  and  to 


■i*  .  '  1."*     ^'-  '  -'*  *-,  '■  J: 


-    f        .  .,.H-Vf^. 


OR  THB  MiaSSONART. 


■IfH 


■M 


fioat  dreadf  uj^rds  th^i^lo^  d  sea  of  in* 
efiable  delights.  '^^'^$m^}^$"'*^^pWiWfif:^'mh  '.<  i 
.^.,Ren*  Bourdcise,  reiserved  for  future 
deaths  did  not  escape  frora  present  torture; 
tjis  tormenters  surrounded  hioi,  and 
lof  eed  into  his  tender  skin  small  splinters 
of  pitch  pine,  and,  when  a  number  had 
bejen  pressed  in  thus,  they  applied  blazing 
^ftlthestothe  parts  whi«h  obtruded,  and 
the  dark  flame  ran  swiftly,  from  one  to 
ap^pther,  along  the  bristling  surface,  until 
it  becatne  a  mass  of  fire.  In  vain  the 
suffering  youth  struggled  to  escape;  his 
bands  only  permitted  him  to  wind  round 
and  round  the  stake;  but,  whichever  way 
he  turned,  blows  met  him,  or  blazing 
knots  of  pine.  Thus  eight  victims  suf- 
fered-^ten  thousand  deaths  were  they  en- 
during, and  yet  so  skilful  was  the  Indian  in 
kis  torture  that  death  itself  could  not  re- 
Keve  them.  The  novice,  weak  from  his 
fcng  fatigues,  yet  sore  from  former 
^iK^unds  and  sufferings,  at  length  became 


212 


k-i-m:: 


''■''. , 


i^v 


;  jK.   is' 


exKausteil,  and  bung  supported  Iby  his 
bands  alone.  Father  Laval,  mormg  in 
the  midst  of  his  torturers  around  tlife  stake, 
began  to  pray  aloud :  •^-^■^^*iV"*f«^Vv^»';H?5;r^ 

**  The  pale  face  warrior  sings  his  death 
soiiig,"  said  Kiohba,  '^how  many  war- 
riors hath  he  slain  ?  How  many  scalps 
has  he  taken  ?  He  is  a  woman  *  a  slave! 
a  dog!''  and  the  shouts  of  the  infuriated 
mob  drowned  the  voice  of  the  priesti^ 
r  In  the  tent  of  Kiodego,  the  chief,  sat  a 
wounded  man,  faint  and  weak^  his  form 
reclined  against  a  pile  of  furs/  his  hands 
covered  his  face,  his  breathing  was  deep 
and  stern,  but  there  was  no  other  mark  of 
life  about  him.  At  his  feet  sat  an  Indian 
maiden — Morning  Flower  was  weeping! 

Still  on  rang  the  furious  shout  of  the 
wild  savage — on  went  the  fearful  torture — 
the  fiendish  dance  went  on.  But  loudest 
of  ail  arose  above  the  tumult  the  shrill 
voices  of  the  beldames  as  they  gathered 
around  Leloup.    The  Indian  heeded  them 


'■Jiii^L^i, 


,?* 


■J^ 


v:^:^ 


■'tvkhl 


OA  TH«  MI^SIOHARr.   ;    s 

not }  he  was  p^jpikhbg  Ihlmseff  to  aie. 
Then  for  a  time  it  seemed  as  if  the  freazy  of 
the  Mohawks  was  dying  away^  but  it  aooii 
broke  out  ia  renewed  fury,  and  the  various 
crowds  drew  off  to  hurl  the  tomahawk- 

^'  See,"  said  Kiohba, "  how  a  b^ave  can 
strike!"  aod  he  repeated  the  feat  of  skill  he 
had  hefore  performed.  With  a  laugh  of 
scorn,another  Mohawkstepped  forth,  and^ 
brandishing  his  weapon,  exclaimed  :;i^ 
^^^JJTou  have  grazed  his  head,  I  will  drive 
the  ears  of  the  blackgown  into  the  stake.'? 

The  lyiohawk  aimed  at  Father  Laval^ 
who  gazed  upon  him  almost  unconscious- 
ly. The  moment  was  one  of  deep  peril ; 
no  matter  how  skilful  the  aim,  a  sudden 
motion  of  the  victim,  an  involuntary  start 
would,  instead  of  mutilation,  bring  death. 
Jijva^  a  feat  of  nice  and  precise  skill,  and 
the  Mohawk  measured  his  distance  care- 
fully, and  drew  back  his  arm.  4^^    ^    v 

Suddenly  the  peal  of  a  rifle  broke  upon 
the  air^  and  then  another  and  another,  in 


'  rt- 


'Q§^gm.i: 


M 


•fe-vV-ifJiit  .  .'X^'iii'tili.^M;?  . 


214 


>>') 


:.f^-  PSftE-JSAir, 


quick  succession^  flashed  from  the  forest^ 
and  a  wild  and  eiulUns^  shout  broke  out. 
Down  came  the  fierce  Mohawk-^another 
and  another  fell — whilst  the  whole  north- 
ern circle  of  the  forest  seemed  blazing 
v/ith  continuous  flashes.  Hushed  was 
thv?  voice  of  the  warrior — mute  the  shrill 
ton jue  of  woman — terror-stricken,  they 
clustered  together.  'Their  rifles,  and  bows 
and  arrows  were  in  their  cabins ;  there  was 
a  scattering  in  wild  afiright  to  obtain  their 
arms;  one  figure  alone  sprang  towards 
the  bound  prisoners,  tomahawk  in  hand. 
>  Over  the  wild  peal  of  battle  rose  the  firm 
voice  of  Ahasistari,  and  the  Hurons 
sprang  out  from  their  cover|  to  the  charge, 
to  strike  the  eflective  blow  before  the 
Mohawks  could  rally.  Out  from  the  im^* 
penetrable  darkness  bounded  these  dusky 
figures,  rushing  on,  with  wild  and  exults 
ing  shouts,  ta  cut  ofi*  the  entrance  to  the 
cabins;  one^  a  lithe  and  vouthAil  ibrm,< 
shaking  fiercely  over  his  head  his  smallf 


^^t 


OR  TUB  MIUtOVARY.- 


215 


:\  '5 ' 


8t6el  axe^  leaped  forward  to  the  prisoQers* 
Waiook  was  rushing  to  the  rescue. 

KifDhba  pressed  on  in  his  fell  purpose. 
He  ;^reaiched  the  side  of  the  novice/ he 
wound  hia  hand  in  his  long  hair,  he  benl 
hack  h|B  head,  and,  glaring  fiendishly  intp 
bis  face,  he  seemed  to  make  him  die  by 
slow  and  fearful  agony ;  then  his  weapon 
flashed  above  him,  and  came  down  with 
a  sullen  crash,  and  the  form  of  the  poor 
jiovic6  sank  lifeless,  supported  by  the 
withes  that  bound  him  to  the  stake.  Ki- 
ohba  unwound  his  hand  from  his  locks, 
and  tore  the  scalp  from  his  mangled  brow; 
then  he  turned  towards  the  Jesuit.  Leloup 
struggled  to  byrst  his  bands,  but  his  iron 
strength  Would  not  avail  him ;  in  helpless 
agony  he  had  looked  on.  At  that  moment 
II  well  known,  voice  was  in  his  ear ;  a 
single  heavy  stroke  severed  the  cord  that 
bound  him,  and  the  tall  Huron,  tossing 
up  his  arms  to  heaven,  as  if  glorying  in 
thethought  of  freedom  once  again,  sprang 


I 


^ 


i 


f; 


216 


■f  fA 


.«'♦■<. 


on  to  the  rescue.  The  fierce  Mohawk 
was  already  by  the  side  of  the  priest;  his 
arm  was  outstretched  to  aim  the  fatal 
blow^  when  Leloup,  like  a  wolf  upon  his 
prey,  bounded  on  him.  Down  came  the 
two  powerful  savages-^the  armed  and  the 
unarmed — but  life  and  retribution  nerved 
the  heart  of  the  Hurbn,  and  8tru«:Df  his 
sinews.  The  weapon  of  Kiohba  was 
dashed  from  his  grasp  ;\s  he  fell  to  the 
earth,  and  he  sought  for  the  knife  in  his 
girdle.  For  a  moment  it  seemed  doubtful 
which  would  conquer.  Over  and  over, 
the  two  rolled  swiftly  upon  the  ground. 
At  length  the  hand  of  Leloup  rested  upon 
the  knife  of  his  foe ;  in  a  n^oment  more  it 
gleamed  in  the  light,  and  was  buried  in 
the  heart  of  the  Mohawk.  The  strong 
grasp  of  Kiohba  relaxed,  and,  casting 
off  his  nerveless  hand,  the  Huron  arose 
from  the  fearful  struggle.  &o  rapid  had 
it  been  that  the  last  prisoner  was  just 


released. 


»■,#'4--^■*-^^-;=•■^    ^>*^'^e;'^.i5^f-»^^>^.'H,»'    -»<,.*  u^^^VS-""; 


4^-^  . 


h-%  A.  i- 


OR  T«fi  MlSSIOirARY. 


617 


Father  Land  east  himseir  opon  hit 
knees  in  prayer,  while  (he  Hurons  cadght 
MP  What  arms  they  couh)  BdcI,  and,  headed 
by  Leioup,  dashed  on  towards  the'  spiM 
where  Ahasistari  and  his  foiiowers  were 
contendiii^g  with  superior  numbers.  The 
btaze  of  the  fires  cast  a  fearful  light  upbii 
the  battle  scene,  seeming  to  double  th^ 
numbers  of  the  combatants^  and  to  swell 
their  forms  into  gigantic  size.  Two  poW-^ 
erful  Mohawks  were  rushing  towards 
their  cabinsi  for  their  arriis  j  the  chief  of 
the  Hurons  intercepted  them.  The  flrSt 
atter^xpted  to  close  with  him,  but  a  singl# 
blow  of  the  tomahawk  stretched  him  life% 
less  at  his  feet  i  the  second  was  upon  him 
before  he  could  recover  from  his  effort^' 
and  aimed  a  stroke  at  his  head.  The 
Huron  warded  it  skilfully,  and  they  closed. 
The  firtnigfle  Was  terrific,  bttfv^  short, 
and  Ahasistari,  as  he  quitted  the  dead 
body  of  the  Mohawk,  Ca:H  tgilaiice  upod 
'the  sd&ne  of  battle.'  f^%f;:m^^^ '  '  ''^'^^j-'ff^ 
■  ■    15  ■'  '     "    '''... 


f>i  :'\'i'-' 


3t« 


.1  vl   %   . 


.  Pefirfiil  bad  been  ihe  firiit  ofislaughlof 
lb«  Haroo9,  They  had  mel  (heir  foes;  as 
ia  punic^  they  broke  away  towards  iheir 
irip^wains,  and,  by  the  fury  of  theirassault, 
bad, driven  them  back  to  the  open  space. 
Here  they  began  to  rally  and  to  fight  with 
•ometbing  of  their  accustomed  bravery. 
All  Illdioq..  taken  by  surprise,  can  seldom 
ffi^O'er,  apd  the  Mohawks  waged  an  un- 
equal battle  wiih  their  fierce  and  deter- 
mii^ed  assailants ;  but  Tor  their  superior 
numbers^  the  rout  would  have  been  in- 
ftiiiitaneous  and  terrific.  They  began  to 
rally  ;  the  womei^^  and  cliildren^  and  old 
men  appeared  upon  the  scene,  the  women 
bearing  the  rities,  and  the  bows  and  ar- 
rows of  the  warriors.  With  renewed  en- 
ergy the  Mohawks  fought,  armed  as  they 
were,  with  tomaha\yks  and  clubs;  scarcely 
a  shut  pealed  iip.^  |j|e.  i^r,  a^d^  in  the 
stern  battle  of  man  to  man,  no  cry  broke 
forth.  Suddenly  upon  the  stillness  came 
the  loud  blast  of  a  horn  from  the  soutberp 


Mj.  ,j-.^m 


'Tr;? 


r^ir^. 


OR  TH&   MISaiONARr. 


ai» 


portion  of  the  forest,  echoing  and  re-echo- 
iqg  in  the  hil(s  to  the  north  |  thepi  aj^rr 
rjfic  shout,  and^  high  above  the  reat,  the 
battle  ci^y — '•Chaniplain  a  nous  I  Ch?in)- 

;,  Sweeping  down  the  swafd  rushed  m  , 
band  of  dark  figures  that  seemed^  in  tt## 
flickering  light,  of  countless  numbers, 
while  the  loud  and  deafening  blast  of  the 
horn  still  rang  op^  and  ever,  as  it  paused, 
the  battle  cry,  "  Champlain!  ChanH- 
plainl'' broke  out.  A^ 


.  The  Mohawk  warriors  stood  aghast. 
Had  the  dead  really  arisen?  Had  the 
gr^at  medicine  accepted  their  challenge, 
^lija^?  called  the  mighty  warrior  from  hi» 
tomb  to  the  rescue?  Was  it  a  ghastly 
tisoop,  ?fith,horr|Ji)\^  sounds  of  unearthly 
import,  th^t  came  upon  them?  Their 
arms  dropped  nerveless^  and  they  paused 
^^^0^  onslaught — whilst  the  Hurons 
renewed  their  exalting  cries,  s^nd  charged 
ope  more  pg|  ^hem,    Jhe  ft?ft,J8^ 


228      ■--■'j'^PBREiEi^K,!!^;.;^. 


1 


gleamed  out  fiercely^  stirred  by  t  f tssmg 
breath  or  wind,  and  the  fitful  light  dis-' 
covered  to  the  frightened  Mohawks  the 
face  and  form  of  a  white  man  bouading 
forward,  and  waving  his  glistening  blade 
||bove  his  head.'^  ' :  '"'  ■  '■"■  ''■■'  "''^  ^^ ' vg_^  .  ^^ .,; . 
^"Charaplain!  Champlain!  IVfohaiWk 
dogs  !^'  shouted  the  figure  in  the  Iroquois 
tongue,  as  he  dashed  into  their  midst, 
striking  down  the  first  he  met  with  his 
long  and  curved  knife.         ^'  \M 

•'The  dead!  the  dead!  Chattiplain!" 
exclaimed  the  paralysed  Mohawks,  and 
broke  away  from  the  field  of  battle.  Wo^ 
men  and  children,  old  men  and  warriors, 
mindful  of  the  scenes  of  the  council,  fled 
wildly  off,  veiling  their  eyes  from  him 
whom  they  believed  to  have  arisen  from 
the  tomb :  still  in  their  ears  rang  the  cry 
of '^ Champlain !  Champlain!"  aiid  the 
relentless  Frenchman,  with  his  band, 
smiting  right  and  l^t,  pursued  them. 
Terror  lent  wings  to  their  speed,  and  they 
scattered  deep  in  the  forest. 


oil  TfilB  MISSIOHAIir. 


221 


^^'y^'^^&^t- 


By  the  Kdme^  of  ineir  early  yearfi— by 
the  council  fii^«  where  their  fathers  had 
sat— 'Updn  the  turf  where,  ib  childhood's 
hourd,  they  had  sported— still  gathered  a 
stern  band  of  veteran  Mohawks.  They 
were  few  in  number — fewer  than  their 
foef— r^)^t  they  were  true  and  ur^yl^ldiog 


bMr^sr.  For  a  moraent,  wh^n  the  rout 
began,  the  battle  had  ceased^  and  the 
t#q  parties  now  stood  gazing  at  due 
another  in  fierce  defiance.  The  MohaWks 
were  armed  with  no  weapons  but  those 
of  a  hand-to-hand  fight — and  Ahasistari, 
casting  asi(}e  his  rifle  with  a  noble  gene- 
rosity. Sprang  forward  to  meet  his  foe 
upbh  an  equality  of  arms.  Knife  in  hand 
he  grappled  with  a  warrior ;  his  Hurons 
followed  his  example,  and  for  a  moment 
there  %ks  seen  a  struggling  crowd  of  in- 
distinguishable figures  :  here  and  there, 
with  a  convulsive  spring,  some  form 
would  cease  its  motion,  and  lie  still  and 
siteht  as  the  sod  it  pressed.    The  rest  still 


-^$-i--M 


■    .X^l:^: 


:t'hP: 


i.   ■■  ■ 

1' 


*; 


222 


^''^'iPERE  JEAN. 


..,■-.  vii..')..,\f'- 


^trugg^ted  on.  At  length,  froih  oilt  the 
m^}^  crept  ail  unarmed  savage,  Wobnded, 
coilililghirhself  slowly  along  the  gl-bund 
as  if  iti  dying  agottyV  He  reached  the 
forner  of  the  lodge,  and  passing  behind 
Its  shadow,  sprang  quickly  to  his  feet. 
His  eye  fell  upon  the  kneeliii^  fgui^eol 

* 

Father  Laival  as  he  bent  him  over  a  dying 
Huron,  and  tearing  off  a  portion  of  his 
belt,  he  stole  quietly  behind  him.  th  a 
ifnoment  he  had  gagged  him— in  another 
he  was  hurrying  him  rapidly^  in  spite  of 
his  resistan'ie,  from  the  spot.  The  priest 
attempted  to  cry  out,  but  it  was  in  vaili; 
and  casting  a  lingering  look  towards  the 
group  where  his  friend3  were  fighting 
within  reach  of  him— yet  tgnorant  of  his 
danger — resigned  himself  to  his  fete.'^^^ 


^•-^1:^*4^ 


':ili}m*^^T^%^ 


l?«\< 


■■/■v 


>     ,   r 


#.'    ^' 


^^ 


'#iE4>'  ■^'- 


I  ■&■!■■>   ■ 


DDUUOOGUD 


;;>*.5:;-'' 


/J;- 


The  trreath  of  mU  Flmen. 

HASlSt  A  Rl  an*  his  foes  w*4 
siragglirif  |  th4  ctriiiAbftf  #as  ^tt€% 
biiij  one    by  one.  the  Mbtiawks  %%li 
o^ierjiowered  or  sbiiny  una  th^  Httfdiis 

hge.     The  noise  of  battle  had  cea^ie^d ; 
billy  the  rtoan  Of  pain  broke  the  sliU- 


iK^  of  i^h%  ^^jemr'p^n^mm^mm- 

ej  and  tbef  dfeiAd  #ere  ihcfre  besideis  them- 
selves. Their  chief  Ic^fe^d  ih)Und  ih 
t^ain  fioT  fli«^  Jesuit  atid  the  nbVice.  -He 
ci^i^  oiii  tbdr  haitiif'fi^  j  lhl»y  did  not  ad-^ 
fWer;  They  ^rt*!-*  rtii  village  i%^ 
were   fhei^  bul  the  fteble,  ttfd  ihtJi^ 


■?f»< 


:Xf^'. 


ml 


S24 


.  isf'i 


/f^^z/I^EEB  JEAl^''^^^ 


.'.>^-, 


who  were  unable  to  By.  They  turned 
in  sorrow  to  the  fires  of  torture.  Bound 
to  his  stake,  supported  almost  u)>right 
bv  his  hands»  like  life  but  for  the  crush- 
ed and  bleeding  brow^  was  the  dead 
|>ody  of  the  gentle  novice.  Softly  they 
loosened  the  cords;  softly  as  if,  eiren  in 
death,  they  "vfould  not  ruffle  the  placid 
slumber  of  th^slf  pat^iind  delicate  features. 
They  laid  him  do^n  upon  the  turl^  and 
SGUf;ht  again  for  the  Jesuit.  He  was  not 
there.  Catching  up  a  burning  brand, 
Ahaisistari  exa,m.ined  the  edge  of  the  for- 
fsf ;  suddenly  he  uttered  a  low  exclama- 
tion, and  darted  intp  its  depths.  The 
glare  of  the  torch,  as  its  flame,  tossed 
wildly  in  his  swift  course  flitting  pant  the 
dark  trunks  of  trees,  lopkej,  like  a  red  mer 


i\».'.i  ^  ---^ 


"%^t- 


teor  m  its  courses  '^p  ,^^^^^^^f|p> 
. !  The  Hurons  silently  gathered  their  clead 
from  the  field,  and  laid  them  down  by  the 
body  of  the  young  novice.  Then  they 
stood  around  them  solemnly.     A  few 


■I 


OR  1^11  MIMIONARY*;  ;^o  ;V^^ 

momeiits  passed  thus  ID  sterQ  meJitatioti ; 
wheiif  glidi«g^^  noiselessly  into  the  group, 
iind  pressing  aside  the  rest,  two  figures 
a-pprpacfaed  close  beside  the  body  of  ihe 
novice.  A  low  but  joyful  exclamieitioii 
welcomed  them*  Father  Laval  heeded 
it  not.  The  steel  axe,  whick  Ah^i^ 
law  bore,  was  yet  dripping  with  warm 
Mpodj  it  told  the  Hurons  the  story  of 
^1  teiscu^^  Qne  by  one  came  back  the 
scattered  warriors  from  the  pursuit^  and, 
Ili;s^t  of  all,  Leloup  and  Daring  Scout. 
£*^lhet  La:vdl  knelt  beside  the  body  of  bis 
yo^ng companion;  tears  dimmed  his  eyes, 
and  the  voice  of  prayer,  which  arose  from 
Jita  lips  for  the  departed  spirit,  came  brokeh 
wi|h  sighs  and  indistinct  with  grief. 
Torphef  of  blazing  pine,  placed  by  the  si- 
Icont  Hurons  Pt  the  head  and  feet  of  the 
d^ad,  were  sending  up  their  bright  flame, 
capped  with  dark  clouds  of  sn)oke — fit  em- 
blem <jn|  the  life  of  m^7i.  Around  knelt 
the  Christiana  warriors,  mingling  their 


^26 


■A  .\\ 


,  ,,  ■<^,iri'T-    3 


prayers  with  those  of  the  priest  of  Qod. 
The  countenances  of  the  Huron  braves 
were  stern  and  soletna  ;  no  other  mi^rk  of 
§rief  appeared  upon  them.  Kneeling  at 
the  fe^^t  of  the  departed  were  LeIoMp  and 
Watook^and  behind  them  tl.e  stern  scout 
As  he  looked  upon  the  pale  fes^tures  of  the 
novice/a  tear  stole  silently  down  his  hard 
and  weather-beaten  face^  and  clung  amid 
the  scarred  wrinkles  until  it  mtogled  with 
the  air,  and  arose  to  he9ven,  carrying  witb 
it,  like  perfume,  to  the  skies  the  anspok# 
prayer  of  the  melting  heart.  L'Espion 
Hardi  was  thinking  of  the  gallant  son 
whom  be  had  thus  buried  in  the  forest. 
#^^band  touched  him  lightly  upon  the 
shoulder;  when  he  looked  up  Aha^leitafi 
stood  beside  him,  and  beckoned  him  to 
follow  him.  After  they  had  gone  some 
distr.nce  from  the  spot,  the  chief  paiised, 
and,  pointing  to  the  group,  said ; 

f  L'Espion  Hardi  is  of  tb#t1i#0f  the 
pale  face.    It  becomes  him  to  look  to  the 


>ij, 


^%i 


.     '\ 


>   ;!;■  .,"■'■  t  ■    ■■■ 

bftWa  c)f  his  dea£  Sf^  f  the  gocM  \Asm 
gown  is  wrapt  in  sorrow !  ihe  Word*  bf 
iha  chief  wduld  disturb  his  spirit*  The 
braves  will  bury  their  brothers  !'* 

"Huron,  fani  biit^ tude^  fbr^st^r.  1 
have  lived  in  the  woods  till  I  atil  Uk6 
th^  Indian  rather  than  tny  dWn  bldod  ciliji 


irate 


9i 


.;«;  if.  .u"v:.,::^,>j" 


"Good!^'  said  the  chief/ nodding  his 
approvingly  ;  "  Daring  Scotit  is  ih^ 
brother  of  the  Hurons!"  ■^^-^■•i«-*^'^-i:^^ff-#y(#g. 

*^  Chief,"  continued  Pierre, "  the  youth 
"mist  be  buried  like  a  Christi^ii  White 

:>;  **  The  Hurons  ^re  Christians,"  said 
iffie- Indian  slowlyi'^^^':'M-^:i-.;  '■^^,<:i^-.i^^^^.J^^ 
I^True,"  replied  the  scoutj  "your 
brothers  must  not  be  tui^ned  into  the  earth 
like  th^  heathen  Mohawk!"  The  Indian 
assented,  and  thfe  scout  s^onttnued :  "  We 
Hitlst  burytherh  side  by  side  with  the 

youth  t"        ^'\'^-'''^¥'y^M0M^  -^         ■    v^.-'  . 

*  "  Huron  and  pale  face— all  th^  same  in 


t*  T', 


m 


%^^iil#  J«Ai«ii 


X 


lsH"^l 


v:. 


:,'y.J 


the  ground — all  the  same  before  God!" 
eaid  the  chief  earnestly ..^1^  r 

''Not  the  same  here  on  tbip  f^arth 
^though!''  said  the  scout»  clioging  io  the 
idea  of  the  superiority  of  his  race.       ^# 

'^No?  Indian  tell  truth!  Indian  don't 
steal;  he  lovesGod  aiad  prays  to  him; 
what  more  pale  face?"  -     «^  /^i^^**K^^^ 

For  a  moment  the  scout  was  silent  jil 
length  he  said :  "  True,  Huron,  but  the 
pale  face  is  richer  and  stronger ;  he  builds 
splendid  cities,  makes  6ne  houses,  wears 
rich  clothes,  drinks  costly  wines."  The 
scout  ceased  as  he  caught  the  meaning 
glance  of  the  Huron's  eye.  But  that  look 
passed  away  in  a  moment,  and  Ahasistari 
said  solemnly' :     ^-  •  v*^r^#^T->  ;r- M^^H^j^'i^r 

"What  good  all  that— there  and  thereP^ 
as  he  pointed  Im-i^i^arth,  and  then  lo 
the  sky.  The  scout  was  silent,  and  the 
chief,  turning  away,  said :  **  Let  us  go!'' 
,  J^JYes,  it  is  time  to  dig  their  graves;" 
and  the  two  entered  the  forest. 


-  *'S)i,]^'»i 


*?.,  -<.^/ 


OR  THE   MlSSl^J^ARY.      M      2S® 


.■s.'i,!^/(h\ 


^^:  j^ 


•*  it  shallbe,"  cvaid  Aha«8tani^*  whem 
the  foot  or  the  Mohawk  shall  not  tread 
upon  them.^*  '<^"  ■^-■^i^^  ir^^^^^'-  '^i^-^^^-'  ■ 
i  Selecting  a  suitable  spot,  the  Huron 
and  the  Prenchmati  ttirbed  up  the  sod 
with  their  hatchets,  and,  in  a  short  time, 
had  scooped  a  resting  place  for  the  deaid. 
Then  th^y  retraced  their  steps  to  the  vil- 
lage, and  joined  the  group.    Rude  biers 
were  made  of  the  branches  of  trees  strewed 
With  the  softest  foliage,  that  the  lifeles^;^ 
corpse  might  repose  gently  there.    In  one^ 
of  jthe  lodges  had  been  found  the  sacks  in 
which,  slung  upon  their  shoulders,  ther* 
missionaries  carried  their  vestments  and 
the  sacred  vessels  in  their  journeys  through'^ 
the  boundless  forests.'  ^'^'^  ■^^.m^^^^'^m^r^^^^^  ^: 

III  his  white  surplicethey  robed  the  gentle 
novice ;  in  that  pure  garment  in  which  he 
had  so  often  served  at  the  holy  sacrifice  they 
wrapped  him  lor  the^6te*ii  burial  Hisi 
ikiids  were  meekly  crossed  upon  his  breast.  - 


'Jm^i 


n 


■';/:* 


C^i*';  ■■^^■k^- ■ 


vf'in 


Tbf^y  raised,  htm  sadly  J  and  laid  him  on  his 
bier ;  ihey  lifted  it  and  strode  forward. 

At  that  instant  a  slight  female  figure 
pierced  through  the  group,  and  gazed  for 
a  aioment  on  the  face  of  the  dead.  Then 
she  placed  a  wreath  of  wild  flowers  upon 
his  broWy  and,  startiog  away,  the  wail  of 
the  Indian  girl  arose  for  the  departed. ^^^f 
.^.Bearing  torches  in  their  hands,  the  pro- 
cession wound  solemnly  into  the  forest, 
and  paused  beside  the  new  made  grave. 
Slowly  and  carefully  they  laid  him  in  his 
silent  resting  place,  while  the  light  of  the 
torches  beamed  upon  his  angelic  face, 
and,  reflected  from  the  glowing  colors  of 
the  wild  flowers  on  his  brow,  his  cheek 
seemed  to  bloom  with  a  tinge  of  life.  He 
had  passed  into  death  suddenly,  in  the 
midst  of  prayer;  its  heavenly  radiance 
still  hovered  around  the  chiselled  features. 
Beautiful  in  death,  crowned  with  the 
wreath  of  flowers,  and  robed  in  ur spotted 
white,  the  young  martyr  lay,  a  halo  of 


:'Un,-Wi 


^I4>ji^ifm;mi,^  mi  r.^^-^^p: 


OR  THK  MISSIOllARr. 


I 


/■  *•*■■ 


unearthly  glory  seeming  to  the  wrapt  be- 
.bolders  already  to  glow  around  his  brow. 
By  the  side  of  the  gentle  novice  ibey 
stretched  the  scarred  forms  of  the  two 
Huron  warriors.  In  silence  their  brothers 
laid  them  down  to  mingle  their  dust  with 
of  another  race,  yet  one  in  faiths  and 
ie,  itnd  charity ;  one  by  the  bond  of 
that  church  which  gathers  alike  all  souls 


^imriihin  her  fold* ' 


..-i' 


^,  *,* 


^,    f^;,iU'.  'M^ici'-^^ 


?•  De  profundisclamavi  ad  te,  Domibd^*' 
arose  in  the  deep  voice  of  the  priest,  and 
Ifhe  Hurons  responded,  ^^v  j  >  ^>?^t^^  %:' 
^t-  Oi  liow  solemn  was  the  burial  cere- 
|taony  there,  in  the  hour  of  midnight,  by 
Hie  wild  ^ieamof  torches,  under  the  forest 

trees,  wiih  the  dusky  forms  of  the  Hurons 

■      ft       . 

group^  around  the  grave^^C;#w*  • 


rfH'K' 


It  w^s  done.  IJpon  the  cold  bosom  of 
the  dead  fell  the  clodded  earth,  which  was 
3#'be  the  dwelling  place  and  home  of  the 
body  until  its  mouldering  dust  should 
|t|[illgle  witb^i^  JQarefiilly  they  replaced 


-/.  rt- 


i*' 


k 


232 


.  1 1"- 


PERE  jEAir; 


r*^ 


each  sod^  and/ above  the  Whole,  strewed 
the  fallen  leaves  again  so  skilfully  that  it 
might  never  more  be  found  save  by  those 
who  now  looked  upon  it.  As  they  fin- 
ished, a  figure  flitted  from  the  spot;  the 
Indian  maiden  had  been  gazing  on  the 
scene.  In  silence  they  wended  their  way 
back  to  the  village,  Ahasistari  and  Leloup 
in  the  roar,  coveving  every  footstep,  and 
removing  every  trace  of  their  passage. 
When  they  hr  d  reached  the  centre  of  the 
village,  the  chief  addressed  the  priest : 

"Father,  there  is  little  time  to  spare j 
the  routed  Mohawks  may  reach  the  near- 
eni  villages  of  their  tribe  by  daybreak,  and 
we  have  many  days'  march  before  us !" 

**  I  am  ready,  my  son,"  said  the  Jeitiit 
sadly,  for  the  death  of  his  young  com- 
panion  weighed  heavily  upon  himT  '^As 
he  spoke.  Morning  Flower  stood  before 
him,  and,  ih  a  low  tone,  mentioned  the 
iname  of  Kiskepila,  and  pointed  to  his 
Ms^*    The  Jesuit  fiillowed  her  thither, 


„^v?0i^i:*<5^^.:jC:rt^i^'. 


,.'<>r 


OR  THB  MISSIONARY. 


233 


while  the  Hotons  mRde  their  preparations 
for  departure;  gatheribg  all  the  arms  at 
the  village,  and  destroying  (hem,  and 
loading  themselves  with  a  supply  of  corn 
for  t^^  march.  Father  Laval  found  the 
young  Indian  stretched  upon  his  couch, 
hjs  face  covered  ^ith  his  hands,  .t  ^,i  ^m, 

*'My  son/'  he  said,  "be  not  cast 
down!"  The  Indian  looked  up  proudly; 
but  the  glow  of  spirit  passed  in  ^  moment 
from  his  cheek,  and  he  said  :    *  vVt  t'^g*^ 

"The  home  of  Kiskepila  is  destroyed; 
his  people  are  slain,  and  he  must  lie  upon 
his  bed  helpless  as  a  woman!  Bid  the 
Hurons  come;  Kiskepila  would  die!" 
^,.  At  this  moment  Ahasistari  entered,  and 
Stood  behind  the  Jesuit ;  all  was  ready  for 
departure,  and  time  was  pressing;  but  he 
waited  patiently  till  Father  Laval  should 
conclude  his  conversjation.  As  soon  as 
the  Mohawk  saw  h[m,  he  raised  himself, 
and,'  with  a  look  of  proud  defiance,  said  : 

**  Kiskepila  »s,^he  young  eagle  of  his 

16  :'^ >•    •  .  ' 


f1 


%M 


i'^' 


..v.-  -I*. 


S34 


■:•! 


\: 


imkVi 


tribe!  the  IriQmph  of  the  Huron  is  but 
little  without  his  sculp.*'  i!;^#5^#  * 

^^''  Ahasistari  did  not  move;  but  the  Jesuit 
replied  :  "  My  son^  do  not  entertain  ^ucfa 
thoughts ;  the  Huron  does  not  desire  to 
shed  your  blood.  It  is  our  sineerest  wish 
to  be  your  friends,  and  the  friends  of  all 
men  rather  than  their  foes.''  The  Huron 
'chief  assented.  ,,  -I^^^^. 

i  After  a  pause,  the  Mohawk  continued : 
*^  My  people  are  routed  y  but  they  fled,  not 
from  the  living,  but  from  the  dead !  The 
biackgown  called  the  great  white  warrior 
from  the  spirit  land  to  rescue  bim."-^  ^^; 

Father  Laval  listened  in  wonder,  and 
replied :  ^*  My  son,  this  is  some  wild 
mistate.^*    ■-      •  -^  -  ■,..■- hf§^K 

"Champlain!"  said  the  other;  •*Kis- 
kepila  heard  the  cry,  and  saw  the  war- 
riors of  his  tribe  turn  like  women  from 
the  face  of  the  white^  man.  Who  could 
fight  the  dead  Vl^,j-,  ,  > vv^fSif'  '''    '''^^W 

In  a  moment,  the  whole  matter  becam 


4i^f;ai  4.  *A*,.*Ci'"    #■ 


OR  THS   MISSIONARY. 


3.i--ii-  .is!.. 


tft 


•..i't; 


iapparent  to  the  mind  of  the  Jesuit.  The 
division  of  opinion  in  the  village,  in  regard 
to  the  policy  of  condemning  so  great  a, 
medicine  as  they  considered  Father  Laval, 
had  made  the  taunt  of  Kiohba  remem- 
bered; and,  when  they  heard  the  cry 
"ChamplainJ?V#nd  saw  the  assault  led 
on  by  a  white  man,  they  believed  that  the 
challenge  of  Kiohba  had  been  accepted, 
and  that  the  great  Frenchman  had  arisen 
from  the  tomb  to  the  rescue.  V/hilst  the 
priest  was  endeavoring  to  explain  this  to 
the  Mohawk,  Ahasistari  left  the  lodge,  and 
in  a  few  moments  returned  with  Pierre^ 
."L'Espion  Hardi,"  he  said.  The 
Biohawk  looked  upon  the  scout  for  a  mo- 
ment ;  then  hiding  his  head  in  his  h>ands^ 
remained  in  imperturbable  silence. 

''Yes!  L^Espion  Hardi,"  said  the 
scout,  "  that's  the  name  the  Hurons  call 
me,  and,  if  I  had  not  been  delayed  in  the 
swamp  ground  in  getting  to  my  station 
according  to  the  plan  of  the  chief;  or,  iS^ 


.!*,f^lS 


"M 


m 


V. 


■"/*" 


236  ■••^^'^'A  tEHIi  JEAK/  f^' 


. ;  .'"-■•■/' 


v.>  .  ..-ifej. 


he  had  held  his  fire  a  little 


er  until  i  I 


%a?e  the  signal^  not  a  Mohawk  would 
have  escaped.^'  -  >  ■  *•' -^^^ '•^■■'  ■«•■ "  i -^^^yfii^ [M^-')''^' • 
"  It  is  well,"  said  the  chi^f.  **^  But 
L'Espion  Hardi  was  uelayed  in  the  forest 
too. 


99 


.4^7 


;C:,vi 


IS  'i""^ 


(i 


Ah,  your  Huron  nearly  *missed  the 
trkiL  but  we  came  in  time.'^  v   ;^- 

^  "  Yes.  Ahasistari  was  about  to  fulfil 
his  oath,  and  go  to  die  with  his  father  at 
the  torture  fire,  when  the  sounds  of  the 
coming  braves  struck  upon  his  ear.^^^  ^ 
Father  Laval  addressed  a  few  tend 
words  to  the  Mohawk,  and  left  the  lodge* 
The  Hurons  bound  all  those  who  were 
left  at  the  village  ;  and,  having  heaped  a 
mass  of  fuel  upon  the  fires  to  impress  any 
returning  stragglers  with  the  idea  that  a 
strong  force  was  still  there,  leaving  a 
broad  trail  to  the  edge  of  the  forest  on  the 
south,  then  doubling  and  striking  into  its 
depth  towards  the  northeast,  hastened 
rapidly  on  their  return.     .        f  f^^^Lfe 


.mA'-^t  x> 


v^: 


•;^>'*.: 


OR  THE   MlSSIONARr. 


.ir:  ■ 


m^^"'"- 


fe^- 


The  time  which  must  elapse  before  any 
ursuit  could  leiria  would  enable  them 
escape,  provided  Father  Laval  held 
out.  The  party  under  Watook  had,  in 
<?rder  to  be  §ure  of  the  route  of  the 
Mohawks^  proceeded  to  the  scene  of  the 
first  encounter,  and  had  there  found  the 
ganoes  which  had  been  concealed  in 
f^d'^f^ss  for  another  foray.  With  for- 
tune ;vrecaution  Watook,  after  obyerv- 
ing  the  direction  of  the  trail,  had  sent 
these  barks  up  a  stream  which  flowed 
into  tjie  St.  Lawrence  from  the  Mohawk 
country.  Several  days'  rapid  journeying, 
in  which  they  sought  little  sleep  or  rest, 
brought  them  to  the  spot  where  the  boats 
were  concealed.  Here  they  embarked, 
and,  descending  quickly  to  the  St.  Law- 
rence, turned  their  course  once  more  with 
saddened  and  chastened  hearts  towards 
th^  liuron  missions..}  y'  la 


■^•i-v 


#J..''!.-S,,ww.,„. ,•-;■■. 


X    ■ 


tv 


4. 


•«i? 


t 


'1''  aS''-^  Ai^^Jfej^'V  U>^'^&H^ 


^i2i^^f|;Sa^f*i 


■w,**-^*, 


!0 


toooo.oo.cTi 


,  .—^v — '^. 


^.        CHAPTER  Xn.        ,^^ 

~PQDQQQQ 


,    ♦  !>    V    .  ri.'iuv 


^-jf^v^i 


3^c  Concltision. 


f*'Vj- 


>^n'#^ 


•i'rfi 


EA/IS  passed.  Twice  had  the 
suows  of  water  falleo ;  twice  the 
blossoms  of  spring  had  bbomed :  summer 
was  ii|)oa  the  land;  and  the  fields  aKi4 
waters  laughed  in  glad  sunshine.  ''''^^^. 
It  was  at  the  close  of  day  that  a  group 
of  idlers^  resting  upon  the  quay  at  due- 
bee^  gazed  out  listlessly  upon  the  waters, 
observing  the  motions  of  the  boats  pass- 
ing to  and  from  the  few  vessels  lying  in 
the  river.  Occasionally  a  canoe^  paddled 
by  Indians^  would  shoot  out  from  the 
shore^  and  pass  gracefully  along  the 
waters^  as  its  occupants  bent  their  course 


..tf''*^(^.) 


I-.'  .?,►>., 


^...y,,;,. 


.|rSU  JBAV. 


i*'-mj. 


239 


■^'?^ 


towards  their  settlementd ;  for  the  Christian 
Indians  had  formed  themselvies  into  coh^ 
mtmities^  and  lived  around  their  charchdr 
and  their  priests — the  flock  around  the 
shepherd^— within  the  borders  of  the  pro- 


v:ince«-:^#''?'t:- *^- •■■"^*^ 


^•''¥r*v.^>^ 


r  ■  VI.  '  '<".■/■■:.   ■  4^*'!;-: 


f€ 


The  Indians  are  returning  to  their 
nbtnes/'  said  one  of  the  group.  **I 
thought  they  would  have  remained  in 
town  to-night;  to-morrow  is  the  festival 
of  the  Assumption."  .   , ,   ,,      -^^m.- 

t" True,"  said  another;  ^*but  th^y  are 
i^eturning  to  celebrate  it  at  their  own  vil- 

lageS.'*%' *v^  ^■i:'-H-rr^\,'^''*f'  -xJ    r  ■  ''•»•  -:.i:.>'»-^^-*-.^^^,    / 

l^^'Tfh^y  are  very  pious  and  devout," 
dittintied  the  first.  "  Their  example  is 
enough  to  shame  the  better  instructed 
white*"- ■■^^■^'^'^^''^^•'^'  ^-■''■^""  '' "      '"'  '"^"^^v^ ■  ■  * 

** Better  instructed)!"  said  the  second 
speaker  with  a  laugh ;  "  but  that  depends 
u|>on  the  sense  in  which  you  use  the 
phrase.  They  a^^  unsophisticated,  it  is 
^ue;  and  their  pastors,  the  Jesuits,  have 


» 


;h-  — . 


■■■♦•  S^  ' 


'•.Vi' 


4 


m 


;*^^-^^yP»RE  JCAK^ 


•,.'..1.1?':.., 


succeeded  in  preserving  them  from  the 
contamination  which  so  often  follows  vo^ 
the  patr  >f  the  white  man  in  his  contact 
with  the  Indians.  They  are  untaught  i|i 
the  world's  learnings  perhaps^  and  under- 
value it;  but  I  warrant  thee,  neighbor j, 
they  will  repeat  the  Pater  and  the  Ave, 
and  tlbie  creed  and  the  decalogue,  with 
thee,  and  explain  them  too,  as  well  ^s 
thou  canst ;  and  whet  is  beuer  stilly  neigb^ 
bor,  they  practise  what  they  have  learned ; 
a  thing  which  you  and  I,  and  many  more 
of  the  '  better  instructed,'  sometimes  do 
not  consider  as  necessary  as  we  ought." 

*^^es,  I  admit  they  are  good  anci  prac- 
tical Christians--rt hanks  to  the  zeal  and 
energy  and  purity  of  life  of  their  pastors," 

*^  Is  it  not  admirable,  this  courage  and 
daring  of  the  Jesuits,  that  led  them  into  the 
forest  to  bring  these  wandererif  to  Go4|f 

^^Tbeyt^ll  me,"  s^id  another,  "that 
in  France  there  are  som^  ^hq  begin  to 
t»A  against  the  order  as  proud,  intriguing 
seeking  after  wealth  and  power," 


w 


'-,      '»•.»: 


/'^%, 


Xi 
d 
a 
a 

V 

! 

t 


-■*  JV.  1  '.^ 


m  the 
>ws  ip 
'ontact 
ght  ip 
uader^ 
ghhorj, 
B  Ave, 
^twith 
(Tell  ^s 
neigh- 
arned; 
^  more 
n€s  do 
ght.'^H 
I  prac- 
al  and 
stors," 
^e  and 
Qto  the 

"that 
gin  to 
iguing 


;.;,!;;.: •'/^'-  ■,-;^;'.ii.i;..--'7v.:  .1  j7i  .  ■'#/"•.:;.. ,ilT.«  •'v-  '^f. '/ 

OE  Tm  MISSIONARY. 

"  Oh,  doubtless !    Yes,  I  have  heard 

so,  neighbor.  They  seek  wealth  in  strange 

plaees;  here  in  the  forest,  in  China,  in 

England  on  the  scaffold.    Yes,  it  is  the 

weakh  of  heaven  they  are  seeking !     Ah, 

it  would  be  a  glorious  thing  to  place  one 

of  these  silken-robed  revilers  by  the  side 

of  an  humble  Jesuit  in  the  forest,  beyond 

4ttte  great  lakes,  among  the  wild  Indians, 

who  have  never  yet  seen  the  face  of  a 

white  man.    Give  them  both  staff  and 

^#^i  and  a  wooden  cross — -"   4  f^   •^^li 

##*  Aye,  or  bind  them  both  to  the  smke, 

with  the  savage  Iroquois  around  them,' 

feSring  their  flesh  and .  torturing  them  to 

death,  as  I  have  seen  the  Jesuit  die,  with 

if^ prayer  upon   his  lips" — said  a  voice 

abruptly,  and  the  speaker  rose  from  a  seat 

whitsh  he  had  occupied  near  the  party, 

^ut  concealed  from  them  by  some  bales 

of  goods,  and  turned  his  ^teps  towards  the 

u^^n.    A  pause  for  a  moment  ensued. 

^*  Who  is  thi^t  man  V^  asked  one  of  the 


■k:/^-' 

-i-?;; 


.J« 


group. 


Ml,,    -w»     *   -4>     *^^'        ~<»" 


,M-1.^ 


■:'-\ 


'U:<.. 


242 


sfw  riEB  jzkn^r  W 


^c^ 


;•/.» 


^^' Ah,  that  is  UEtpim  HariiP^  tM 
Ae  defender  of  the  Jesuits,  whose  name 
was  PauK  .ff  I  ha^re  heard  it  said  that  he 
was  out  some  years  ago  with  a  prrty  of 
HuronSj  who  endeavored  to  rescue  two 
missionaries  from  the  Mohawks.  It  is  a 
sad  taie ;  but  it  so  often  happens  thus  in 
this  v/ild  land,  that  one  can  scarcely  recall' 
all  the  facts  tc  mind.  Yes,  one  they 
saved.  Father  Jean  Laval;  the  othor,  a 
novice,  was  already  dead  at  the  torture 
fire  when  they  became  master  of  the 
village.  The  Daring  Scout  is  right; 
bind  the  Jesuit  and  his  reviler  to  the 
stake,  and  see  who  will  die  with  the 
sweetest  conscience  and  the  most  placid 
smile — see  whose  soul  will  best  befit 
a  martyr.  Ah  I  it  is  the  hour  of  death 
which  proves  the  value  of  the  past  life 
— ^which  tries  its  motives,  and  explains 
and  illustrates  them.  That  is  the  hour 
when  cunning  is  of  no  avail;  when  wron|; 
will  weigh  upon  the   consdence,   and 


:Ak-. 


.-t  f 


r-l 


:i'    ••< 


OR  TBK  HimOHAKT. 


243 


'm 


wring  out  the  cry  of  horror  from  the  soul. 
The  death  of  one  Jesuit  is  worth  the 
whole  lives  of  a  thousand  of  their  re viiers. 
The  dying  of  the  one,  and  the  living  of 
the  other,  alike,  are  irresistible  arguments 
in  behalf  of  the  assailed  and  the  reviled.* 
♦^The  blood-prints  of  their  martyrs  have 
already  rendered  holy  the  borders  of  new 
France,  and  sanciiOed  and  dedicated  to 
God  the  great  valley  beyond  the  western 
lakes.  They  have  booglit  it  with  their 
toils  and  sufierings  ! "  .^  .      v*.. 

iJ#And  this  UEspitm  Hardin-l  have 
never  seen  him  before — does  he  come 
often  to  duebec  7^^  V        y-^:^    s-h,*  f|l^ 


*  Compare  the  dying  scene  of  the  Jesuit  mar- 
tjr  m  China,  in  Japan,  amongst  the  Mohawks, 
or  with  Abenakis — even  upon  the  scaffold  in  the 
realm  of  Britain— suffering  in  the  dissemination 
of  religion,  in  the  teaching  of  morality,  with  the 
life  ofan  enemy  of  theirs,  such  as  Sue,  spent  in 
sowing  broadcast  the  seed  of  immorality  and 
licentiousness,  in  spreading  infidelity,  in  assail- 
ihg  Christianity,  and  battening  upon  sin  and 
sorrow.  Ah^  it  is  glorious  to  have  mch  enemies ; 
they  are  their  own  refutation,  their  own  condem- 
ditton,  with  all  rational  Chrittians.  r   ^ .  it.     ^^^^^ 


;.<f| 


t?,' 


244' 


.fj?-?'-. 


♦?.iri^PERE   JEAN^'  1^ 


^'-■■;; 


^:^  It  is  very  plain  that  you  are  not  long  of 
new  Prance.  Of  late  he  comes  frequently 
for  ammunition,  as  he  says :  but  he  always 
calls  at  the  house  of  ihe  Jesuits :  for  during 
that  event  he  formed  a  reverential  affeclion 
towards  the  patient  and  enduring  priest, 
which  the  rude  hunter  can  not  conquer." 
*  ♦*  Then  Father  Laval  is  still  here  7"  '^■^■ 
' A-f  Yes/'  said  M.  Paul ;  **  he  returned 
from  the  Huron  missions  some  months 
since,  and  is  recruiting  his  health,  which 
was  much  shattered  by  the  incessant  toils 
and  labors  of  a  two  years'  mission  among 
the  wandering  tribes,  added  to  the  effects 
of  the  sufferings  he  endured  while  in  cap- 
tivity among  the  Mohawks.  But  see! 
yonder  come  two  canoes  down  the  river 
towards  the  city ;  all  that  we  have  hith^ 
erto  observed  were  leaving  it."  .  ^^?**  ;^* ;^ 
The  rest  of  the  group  directed  their 
eyes  up  the  river  upon  the  objects  indi- 
cated. Sweeping  majestically  around  that 
poipt  from   which   Fa^er  Laval   b%4 


OR  THK  MMHOKART. 


249 


bid  adieu  to  Ciuebec  two  years  before, 
came  two  canoes,  each  urged  by  several 
rowers*  Aided  by  the  current  they  rap- 
i<Jly  neartd  the  town,  until  it  was  possi* 
ble  to  distinguish  the  faces  of  the  occu^ 
pants.  In  the  first  canoe  stood  a  young 
Indian  of  powerful  franae.   His  head  was 

'Ornamented  with  eagle  leathers  ^  his  dresa 
Was  a  rich  robe  of  skins,  bound  round  his 

'^aist  with  a  finely  worked  beltj  his  iace 
%as  free  from  paint,  and  he  was  totally 
unarmed.  Behind  him  rowed  another 
Indian,  the  cross  around  whose  neck  pro- 
claimed him  to  be  a  Christian.  The  sec- 
ond canoe  contained  a  single  male  and 
two  females  ;  one  youthful  and  beautiful, 
in  whom  the  freshness  of  girlhood  had 

SJr  ened  into  fuller  bloom.    The  other  was 

>^lder,  and  the  hand  of  time  had  already 

scattered   a  few  white  hairs  among  her 

l^hick  'locks.    At  the  bow  of  each  canoe 

i  l^as  fastened  a  green  branch,  the  Indian 
symbol  of  ji we^pd  amity*    The  y^uag 


-J ':  ,B^' 


\  • 


246 


warrior  paused  for  a  moment  to  gaze 
upon  the  p^rowing  city^  and  then  bending 
again  to  kis  paddle^  sent  the  light  bark  on 
more  fleetly.  The  evening  sun  was  still 
casting  his  glory  upon  the  waters^  when 
the  bow  of  the  first  canoe  grated  on  the 
sand  of  the  quay  below  the  lookers-on« 
The  Indian  warrior  leaped  ashore^  and 
his  companion  drew  the  light  bark  upon 
the  beach.  In  another  moment  the  whole 
party  stood  together.  Then  the  Christian 
Indian  taking  the  lead,  at  a  quick  pace 
turned  towards  the  town«  It  was  too 
common  a  sight  in  Cluebec  to  attract  any 
extraordinary  attention,  and  the  party 
passed  on  unheeded.  The  young  brave 
of  the  eagle  feathers  trod  on  in  silence, 
scarce  deigning  to  notice  what  to  him 
must  have  been  wondrous  wealth  and 
opulence,  but  r^ardless  of  all  around  he 
followed  in  the  lead  of  his  guide.  At  length 
the  Christian  Indian,  a  Huron,  paused 
before  a  house  of  some  size^  and  after 


''^i,'Mi^% 


;*<«■ 


h-'i.. 


OB  THB  MISSIOirART* 


247 


looking^  about,  as  if  to  Yicognise  the  land- 
marks of  the  place,  advanced  to  the  door 
and  knocked.    In  a  few  moments  it  was 

openec*i'y»-5i'-' w^;, '■"'i""  ^'^I'^.w'  r^,  ^  ■  ^^.v ♦»'•■  "v***'  ''.« 
'^A  Huron  captite  from  the  Mohawks/' 
he  said  to  the  janitor,  ''would  ee  his 
father  of  the  blackgown."  The  door 
was  cast  open^  and  they  entered.  After  (i 
little  delay  the  superior  came  to  them*i^"4i 
.u''  My  son,  what  is  it  that  you  wish  ?  ' 
he  said  to  the  Huron/  - '  '^^r* 

#l4f  My  father,'^  he  replied,  pointing  tc 
the  young  brave, "  a  Mohawk  neophyte  ^' 
.  Long  did  the  good  old  Jesuit  gaze  upon 
the  powerful  young  Mohawk,  one  of  that 
terrible  race  of  Iroquois  who  bad  hith- 
erto resisted  the  efforts  of  the  mk^ionary, 
and  now  heaven  had  sent  one  to  his  door 
(Remanding  admission  to  tb?  church. 

''Yes;  there  is  but  one,'^  he  said, 
speaking  half  aloud, "  who  can  speak  the 
Mohawk  and  Huron  tongue ;  and  though 
in  ill  health,  he  is  full  of  zeal.    Stay,'V 


4. 


t 


248 


:#     PERU  JEAH^     ^'.  ".    ' 


he  continued  aloud^  ^^  my  children.  I 
will  send  one  to  you  who  can  speak  your 
own  language,'^  smd  left  the  room. 
'  The  Mohawk  remained  cold  and  imper- 
turbable, evincing  no  curiosity  as  to  ^hat 
had  been  said,  or  anxiety  for  the  result, 
though  h6  hid  closely  watched  the  face 
of  the  speaker.  The  females  of  the  parly 
were  not  as  impassive,  but  examined 
with  wonder  the  simple  decorations  of  the 
reception-room,  looking  with  astonish- 
ment upon  the  few  plain  pictures  which 
adorned  the  walls.  At  ^^ngth  a  step  was 
heard  without;  and,  through  the  opened 
door,  entered  a  Jesuit.  His  face  was 
averted  as  he  came  in,  but  when  be  had 
closed  the  door  he  advanced  towards 
them.  It  was  Father  Laval.  His  coun- 
tenance was  very  pale  and  attenuated,  and 
his  hair  was  gray  :  for  the  toils  of  a  few 
such  years  as  his  had  been  will  touch  with 
white  as  surely  as  the  placid  flow  of  many. 
Suddenly  the  impassive  face  of  the  Mo- 


Cff^t,     .J:f    , 


hawk  warrior  lit  up  with  a  bright  smile  j 
a  low  exclamation  of  surprise  broke  from 
his  lips,  and  he  stepped  forward  to  a  spot 
where,  from  a  window,  the  light  fell  full 
upon  his  manly  form,  and  said  :  .  4i^ 
!  ^*  Blackgown ! — Kiskepila ! — Morning 

Fl0Werl...<4-,r-4        ^       -•    :•'  .:.:al.^u..-.:^.^ 

The  Jesuit  clasped  his  hands,  and 
looked  towards  heaven,  for  the  memory 
of  sad  scenes  came  over  his  soul ;  but  in 
a  moment  the  cloud  passed,  and  joyously 
he  stretched  out  his  hands :  *^ 

"  Welcome,  Young  Eagle  I  Welcomef, 
gentle  maiden.  Sad  were  the  scenes  in 
which  we  parted  ;  joyful  is  this  hour  in 
which  you  come  back  to  me^^  like  the  fruit 
of  my  captivity.'^  i     ^   .1  k  1 

,  The  Indian  maiden  wept  as  she  took 
the  hand  of  the  priest,  and  she  said :  "  In 
spring-time  and  in  sun^mer,  Morning- 
Flower  has  strewed  fresh  flowers  over  the 
grave  of  the  young  pale-face;  and  she 

has  prayed  there  that  the  God  of  the  pale- 
17 


W'^^     .      >       >'-3«iK'- 


1 

1 

1 

H 

~  ^B 

1 

If 

250 


»■'»■. 

.f" 


face  would  hear  her.  She  has  said^  oflen 
^■^-often:  "Mary!  Mary  !"-.i>:  >?'-;^^; 
i  "  And  heaven  has  heard  your  prayer!'^ 
exclaimed  the  priest*  *     t*^^^ 

"  Kiskepila   has  thought  many  timi^s 
upon  the  word?  of  the  blackgown,*'  said 
the  young  Mohawk ;  and  pointing  to  the 
Huron   captive,  he   continued  :  "  Kiske- 
pila look  the  Huron  captive;  and  he  told 
him  over  and  over  the  leaching  of  the 
good  father*  that  he  might  not  forget  it 
The    Mohawks    are  at    war    with    the 
French  ;  but  the  Mohawk  brave  has  come 
hither  to  be  bapuzed«     Kiodego  has  gone 
to  the  spirit-land,  and  Kiskepila  is  a  chief 
in   his   village.     Morning    Flower  often 
talked  oftheteachingoftheblackgown,  and 
would  se*»k  thefatherof  the  pale  face.    She 
has  come  with  the  mother  of  Kiskepila.'' 
Father  Laval  learned  that  the  Indian 
maiden,    cherishing   his   instructions  in 
her  memory,  and  gaining  further  know- 
ledge from  the  Huron  captive,  had  W- 


■,.l±.,}.^... 


^  .0^^^^  251 

fused  to  become  the  wife  of  the  chief,  ex- 
cept  through  the  Christian  sacrament: 
and  to  be  received  into  the  church  the 
party  had  undertaken  the  long  journey 
to  Cluebec.    Kiskepila  informed  the  priest 
that,  after  the  surprise  at  the  village  and 
the  departure  of  the  victors,  the  Mohawks 
had  not  reassembled  until  late  the  next 
day  ;  that  then  a  strong  party,  with  rein- 
forcements from  the  other  villages,  had 
set  out  ia  pursuit,  but  that  after  an  inef- 
fectual €hase  had   returned,  having  lost 
the  trail  upon  the  banks  of  a  stream  of 
water  that  flowed  into  the  St.  Lawrence; 
that  he  had  explained  away  to  them  the 
cause  of  their  panic,  and  had  ever  after 
maintained  an  ascendency  among  them, 
and  led  them  on  as  their  favorite  war  chief. 
^-Father  Laval  then  began  to  question 
the  *wo  neophytes  upon  the  subject  of  re- 
ligion.  He  found  their  dispositions  good, 
and  their  instruction,  so  far  as  it  had  gone, 
solid  and  well  understood.     And  after 


.1^1  ^f\''if^-i%0iSi     .a  "i(B.. .  :  /■■•».».*  'i/ 


Jl..^^:'  i^4l^^>\ 


253 


:'itj>^''-*>' 


C-s 


consaltiDg  with  his  superior,  determined 
that  they  should  be  baptized  on  the  mor* 
to^f  as  ua  offering  to  God^  through  the 
Virgin^  )i^  ihe  feast  of  the  AssumptioD, 
and  as  a  dedication  of  the  nation  of  the 
Iroquois  to  Christ  under  her  invocation. 
Accordingly  he  placed  the  two  females 
uhder  the  protection  of  the  nuns  of  the 
Ursuline  convent^  with  directions  that  the 
maiden  should  be  further  instructed  and 
prepared^  by  means  of  an  interpreter,  for 
the  reception  of  baptism  and  the  sacra- 
ment of  penance.  In  their  own  house  Kis- 
kepila  and  his  two  companions  were  shel- 
tered— Father  Laval  that  same  evening 
ftttending  the  necessary  preparations  on 
the  part  of  the  young  chief. 

With  the  dawn  of  morning  rang  out 
the  joyous  peals  of  the  church  bells  for 
the  festival  of  the  Assumption.  The  city 
was  thronged  5  many  of  the  colonists  from 
the  country  had  assembled  to  celebrate 
the  festival  in  the  capital.    Crowds  of 


V'' 


•3kl!it;:v:*:i-TtJSa«>i^ 


'  '■  -'f^''''*.*'1  ^''■^■'- 


v.'^yn:, 


■if 


'&' 


4" 


OR  THC  MISSIONARY. 


253 


ifltttgeif^  and  Indians  filled  the  streets; 
l^he  military,  in  all  the  pomp  and  cir- 
cumstance of  war,  were  drawn  out  in 
long  array,  preparatory  to  marching  to 
the  cathedral  to  assist  at  the  holy  sacri- 
fice. At  length  the  pealing  bells  again 
rang  out,  the  solemn  chant  arose  in  the 
holy  temple,  the  deep- toned  organ  swelled 
up  its  lengthened  aisles.  All  duebec  had 
gathered  there,  for  the  rumor  had  gone 
forth  that  an  interesting  ceremony  was 
to  be  performed  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
bishop's  solemn  mass.  The  hour  came. 
Kneeling  at  the  baptistery,  before  the  sa- 
cred font,  were  two  figures,  an  Indian 
warrior  and  a  female.  Over  the  head  of* 
the  latter  was  thrown  a  light  veil  of 
muslin,  through  which  her  jet  black  hair 
showed  its  glossy  hue.  She  was  clothed 
in  a  neat  dress  of  spotless  white.  Beyond 
them  knelt  a  crowd  of  mingled  colonists 
and  natives.  Beside  the  sacred  font  stood 
up  the  Jesuit,  Father  Laval  enrobed,  and 


\ 


i'r: 


1% 


•?; 


254 


■»(*>• 


.-  :  ^^     •  :  V,  V'-  ' 

PERE  JEAN^ 


■m- 


v:K 


holding  his  missal  in  his  hands.  On  eiiber 
side  were  acolytes,  with  lighted  iapers  ijj 
their  hand?.  The  ceremony  proceeded  ;  it 
was  finished ;  and  with  extended  laiidii  ch& 
priest  bestowed  upon  them  lis  bt?ssing* 
The  neophytes  aiose.  li  solemn  proces- 
sion they  moved  towards  the  alrnr.  The 
priest  entered  within  the  sanotuary,  nrA 
they  stood  before  him.  He  joined  theii^ 
hand.^  j  he  placed  the  sacred  ring  upon 
the  finger  of  the  maiden  ;  he  uttered  the 
final  b!*^s;  ing  of  the  church  upon  those 
who  worihily  enter  into  the  holy  bonds 
of  matrimony,  and  the  affectiiig*  scene 
was  ended.  Tears  gathered  in  rhe  eyes 
of  Blather  Laval  as  he  uttered  the  last 
prayer.  Two  years  ago  that  very  day, 
upon  the  feast  of  the  Assumption,  he  had 
run  the  gauntlet  in  the  villages  of  the 
^  Mohawk.  These  two  young  souls  were 
'now  before  him,  the  first  fruits  of  his 
toils  and  sufferings,  through  the  merits  of 
Christ,  and  he  returned  thanks  to  God 
for  his  goodness  in  sending  him  so  abun- 
dant consolation.  At  this  moment  a  Hu- 
ron pressed  through  the  kneeling  crowd, 
advanced  towards  the  Mohawk,  and 
stretching  out  his  hands,  exclaimed :  ^^^ 
"Kiskepila!  there  has  been  v^ar  be- 
tween thy  people  and  my  people.    Let 


'■*ISfa 


J<f'^ 


■eriB.  ill 
ied ;  it 

!SSiQg« 

roces- 
The 
^^  s!ir»d 
1  theii^ 
upon 
ed  the 
those 
bonds 
'  scene 
e  eyes 
le  last 
y  day, 
he  had 
of  the 
were 
of  his 
rits  of 
God 
abun- 
a  Hu- 
rowd, 
and 

ar  be- 
Let 


'Mf 


OR  TH£   MISSIONARY. 


255 


the  hatchet  be  buried.  Let  the  tree  of 
peace  spring  up,  and  the  Mohawk  and 
the  Huron  will  rest  together,  like  bro- 
thers, under  its  shade.  It  is  the  spirit  of 
the  religion  which  thou  hast  embraced.'^ 

"  The  words  of  the  chief  of  the  Hurons 
are  good!  Kiskepila  loveth  peace !  He 
has  come  unarmed  into  the  fortress  of  his 
brothers.  Theblackgown  has  taught  Kis- 
kepila that  they  are  the  lovers  of  peace,  the 
merciful,  and  the  forgiving,  who  are  to  be 
happy !''  and  the  young  Mohawk  grasped 
the  hand  of  Ahasistari. 
;4f  The  lion  and  the  lamb  shall  lie  down 
together — it  is  true;  the  Mohawk  and 
the  Huron  are  friends,''  said  a  voice, 
and  the  figure  of  L'Espion  Hardi  was 
seen  passing  down  the  aisle  of  the  cathe- 
dral with  a  sad  and  pensive  step. 

Together  the  two  chiefs  knelt  before  the 
altar,  and  with  uplifted  hands  the  priest 
besought  blessings  from    heaven  on  the 
union,  add  peafftthws  i?]ade.artd  lifrn^nt^d  , 
by  the  :»«J'Je»M>*ities  H:jr  hiS    holvJ.cfeiuNjti. ! 
"'  "  0  Gfjtl  I  i*  ihm^]}  t  1k^  for  *iby: indr^Jhk/ 
good nes^  to  thy  un^prthv.SQrv.q^nt.'V.e^i- 
claimed,  tlJe  Jtefe\iU  5as,he,d^aned  :fr©0*  ' 
the  chWch  wftfra  h^ppy'4\^arC :  •"^Tho^u** 
didst  turn  my  steps  from  the  beaten  path 
to  those  who  had  already  heard  thy  Gos- 


« 


■fS^^ 


ff&i;  'Ci^i-l.  J  atibj.4i^;' 


.i^fr^'-|^::\-^^^ 


256 


'^^^^'f XRB  JSAK, 


1  jf-^' 

'X- 


pel,  to  tread  in  sorrow  and  captivity  the 
way  to  the  darkened  heathen  ;  and  thou 
didst  there  make  me  plant  in  sadness  and 
suffering  the  seed  which  has  this  day, 
through  thy  grace,  borne  fruit  in  peace 
and  joy.  Thou  guidest  oui;  steps  and  di- 
rectest  our  energies.  Truly  out  of  evil 
thou  dost  bring  forth  good."    •  *  *  '^. 

In  that  year  a  solemn  treaty  of  peace 
was  formed  between  the  French  and  the 
Iroquois,  and  a  mission  was  founded  in 
the  Mohawk  valley.  And  although  in- 
terrupted by  outbreaks  of  the  savages,  and 
interrupted  by  wars,  it  constantly  revived, 
until  at  a  period  of  ten  years  later,  "there, 
in  the  heart  of  New  York,  the  solemn 
services  of  the  Roman  Catholic  church 
were  chanted  as  securely  as  in  any  part 
of  Christendom.''* 

*Bancrofl  iii,  page  113.  ; 


■■If ' 


f       -   ! 


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(     »i04    j,;f- 


*  I 


K    i 


%v., 


't  i- 


.^-^^'J):: 


m    '':-^'Mf.     r. 


4« 


■^:mm. 


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t 


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■'     .t? 


"P^^:f;4,'^i^^- 


^J- 


H       I 


"  ■■   a..      J^. 


'jr.' 


lil; 


r    1 


1  ^<M'' 


'm.i 


